Prologue #2
Liam Doyle, a distant cousin and Maeve’s adoptive brother, greeted Pagan with a handshake and a shoulder slap before turning and introducing him to his da, Patrick. After conversing for a couple of minutes, they brought forward Patrick’s other daughter and Maeve’s adoptive sister, Shannon.
I watched her smile coquettishly up at Pagan, and a sick feeling hit my stomach. She offered him her hand, which he brought up to his mouth, much like he’d done to me minutes before.
A pang shot through me because something about that move made me believe I was different.
It made me feel special.
I didn’t know why it hurt; I hardly knew him, and the little I did know should have made me run for the hills.
What the hell was I doing, even entertaining a man like that?
Jesus, Aislynn, get a grip.
Shannon’s fake laughter cut through the music and chatter in the room, causing me to glance back over toward the bar, where Pagan was standing so close they were practically embracing.
His eyes flicked up, found mine, and held them so completely that I couldn’t look away. The light around me seemed to dim, the sounds of revelry becoming echoes as we stared into each other’s eyes.
With his stare still glued to me, Pagan leaned down and whispered something in Shannon’s ear, his lips so close that they grazed her soft lobe.
Shannon’s lips parted in an O, her eyes went half-mast, and she shivered, basking in his words. Her lashes swept down and back up, feigning innocence, her expression filling with a mix of delight and knowledge that she’d just caught her prize.
I broke our stare, my eyes lowering to where Pagan’s hand lingered on Shannon’s arm. His fingers ran across her delicate wrist, holding it for a split second too long before he turned toward the bar and gave me his back, effectively severing our connection.
It was calculated. Pagan knew I was watching, and he knew how it affected me, but what he didn’t know was that his calculations were off.
I wasn’t a girl who played games, and men who did gave me the ick.
Pulling my shoulders back, I glanced around the room, noticing Tristan and the Speed Demons’ ol’ ladies settling around a table that had just become free.
Tossing my hair, I strutted toward my friends, showing the world how unbothered I was and how little I cared.
Pagan was already a memory, a man who had piqued my interest but then showed me he wasn’t worth shit.
I wanted someone... more.
If the asshole wanted to touch Shannon so badly, he could take his fill.
—————
“You disappeared,” a deep voice rumbled from over my shoulder.
Slowly, I craned my neck, turning away from the bar where I was getting a round of drinks. I fixed a curious expression on my face, but I knew who it was; I could feel him.
I hitched an eyebrow to convey my boredom and shrugged. “You were busy.”
“Have to network,” Pagan explained, resting his hand on my shoulder and leaning his front against my back. “My organization’s new to the area, so when the head of another big organization grants you an audience, you don’t turn it down.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I asked. “To make connections?”
He leaned down, his eyes dancing with interest and a touch of humor. “Yeah. Among other things.”
“Well, you enjoy connecting and have a good night.” I turned my back on him, gave Adam the bartender a dazzling smile, then I picked up the tray he’d just put in front of me and made to leave.
“Where you goin’?” he demanded, grabbing my wrist.
My eyes lowered to where he touched me, and I gave him a pointed look. “I’m going off to make connections.”
“Can’t you connect with me?” he asked, sticking his bottom lip out and pouting like a kid.
Despite myself, my lips twitched. Pagan may have been an asshole, but he was an endearing one. I could imagine him charming most women into bed in around three point eight seconds. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t most women.
I rolled up on my toes and waited a beat for him to lean toward me so I could get up close to his ear, much like he had with Shannon a couple of hours before.
I breathed a puff of air across his ear, watching the tiny hairs on his neck stand on end before murmuring, “I don’t connect with men who leave me hanging to fuck with my spoiled bitch of a cousin. ”
His body froze, and he dropped his hand.
“I hear Shannon likes connecting a lot and often,” I added. “She’s not a fussy girl either, so you two should connect just fine.”
He straightened his back and stared down at me, his black voids for eyes blank.
“Enjoy your night, Pagan,” I told him breezily. I moved to strut back over to the table, but he caught my elbow.
“What’s your fuckin’ problem?” he grated out, almost a snarl.
“The only problem I have is somebody asking what I want to drink, then leaving me standing there while he flirts up a storm with my bitch cousin. I don’t play those games, and I don’t entertain men who do.”
“She came on to me,” he bit back.
“And you told her to back off...” My voice trailed off, and I added, “Oh... wait.” The loaded silence that stretched between us said everything I didn’t.
I gazed at him, taking in his dark, smoldering eyes and his surprisingly full, sensual lips.
He really was a beautiful man, but still—not the man for me.
“It’s no big deal. We hardly know each other.
I’m just the kinda girl who likes a man’s undivided attention, and I don’t think you’re capable, Pagan. ”
“You’re right,” he muttered. “You see, uptight bitches don’t do it for me either.”
A bubble of laughter escaped me. “Then we both had a lucky escape.” I threw him a bright smile and gave him my back, strutting toward the table, and leaving him hanging that time.
I could feel his eyes burning into my back, so I put a little extra swing into my hips. If he wanted a show, I’d give him one, the same way he’d given me a show earlier when he flirted with Shannon ‘bitch face’ Doyle.
Was I a petty bitch?
Well, yeah, but it was like my daddy always said...
What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.