Page 98 of Handsome Devil
And if so… why wasn’t she daunted by me?
I pressed in, getting close, and she eased back. Right up against the wall. She held my gaze the whole time.
My hands flattened to the wall on either side of her head. “As long as you’re sure,” I said, lowering my voice, and her gaze slid down to my mouth. “I wouldn’t want to be a tease, sitting next to you at dinner all night. You know, lead you on…” My lips hovered close to hers, a breath away, as I spoke.
She drew her head back the sliver of space I’d given her. She locked eyes with me, hers wide and dark.
“You’ve done very well tonight,” she said, almost politely. It was such a sudden one-eighty, it confused me. “Congratulations,” she added sweetly. “Everyone at this gala adores you. I mean, other than very possibly your own mother. And your grandmother.”
I drew back a fraction, studying her.
“It seems you’re even more popular with the ladies now than you were in high school.” And there it was again. Gasoline. Her words catching fire… like she was reading me a sexy scene from some dirty book. “I’m not sure their husbands feel the same, though. You must feel it when you walk through the room,” she half-whispered. “Do you feel…?” she asked me, and all the blood in my heart pumped violently southward. “Knowing everyone wants you…?” she whispered, slowly, her words matching the urgent throb of my pulse, which was now thudding in my dick. “They envy you…” Her eyes followed the curve of my lips. “They love you…” I forced down the jagged lump in my throat, like I’d swallowed a peach pit. “And they hate you.”
“They don’t know me.” My voice was parched and shredded, an eviscerated heart dragged across gravel.
“I know you.” Her eyes flicked up to mine again, clear and dark. “You’re the devil.” She said it plainly, a statement of fact. Just like she did in high school.
The sudden seduction was over, but my dick was thoroughly entranced. It stood at attention, swollen with need.
“No, babe,” I corrected her, swallowing. “I’m the hero.”
Did she really not know that by now?
“Oh, no,” she said. “No, no. This ismystory. And you, Dane Davenport, are the villain.”
Then she pushed past me and walked out the door.
Chapter Seventeen
Devi
Iglanced at my phone.
Nothing.
The very brief text conversation with Dane ended over an hour ago, on my question to him.
Me:What is the exact purpose of this meeting?
Still no response from the ice lord.
At one in the afternoon, while I was napping off my hangover from last night’s gala/nightmare, he’d texted me to tell me that he needed to speak with me in person about a “business matter” and that he’d be sending a car to pick me up at three o’clock. It was now two-fifty-five and I was growing more agitated by the minute.
Was it not enough I had to sit with him at dinner and sing his praises all night? Now I had to spend part of my Sunday with him, instead of on the couch brainstorming backup careers?
I was warming to the whole personal shopper idea. Or maybe becoming a florist. Flowers were pretty. And they didn’t fuck with your head. Or your job.
Anything would be better than ever having to sit through something like last night again. Even my beloved dream job wasn’t worth that.
I should’ve told him where to shove it instead of shaking his hand. And told his mother and his grandmother that they were right. That he was, in fact, an asshole and a disappointment.
Then told them about all the shit he’d said to me at the office, and in that ladies’ room.
Let the whole night just blow up in his face.
Although if I did that… he’d just find some way to take me down with him.
I sighed and tucked my phone into my purse. “How do I look?”
