Page 123 of Wicked Lord

Brock’s smile didn’t fade, but he did back away a step. “Your allies won’t be there every time, Vanderhart. You can’t always rush in like a hero to save your little pauper princess.” With a wink, he slithered back into the crowd like a snake.

“Are you okay?” I pulled Lorelei close, ignoring Brock’s pauper comment. He didn’t know a damn thing about me if he thought dropping some ambiguous remark about the Battenbergs’ money troubles would make me turn my back on Lorelei. “Did he hurt you?”

She peered around to see that most guests were too preoccupied to have noticed the drama, and a shaky breath blew from her lungs.

“I’m fine.” A shudder ran through her body. “He makes my skin crawl.”

I kissed her forehead and dragged my hands down her arms to erase the bastard’s touch. “Let’s get a drink.”

She stared up at me and bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “About what Brock said?—”

“Nothing that asshole says matters, Lore.” Unable to help myself, I buried my face in her hair and inhaled her addictive scent. “Youmatter. Nothing else.”

A faint sniffle echoed as her slender fingers gripped my jacket. “Thanks, Ax.”

“What are boyfriends for, blondie?” And this time, I meant it. There was no more fake anything. “Forget about him. Let’s just enjoy our night. How about that drink?”

She snuggled against me as I tucked her into my side, a perfect fit, and crossed the room toward the bar. As we leaned against the hand-carved mahogany counter, waiting on our drinks, Lorelei’s father meandered over.

“I saw you dancing with Brock,” he said, swirling his glass of scotch. “Any chance of a reconciliation?”

I cleared my throat and reached out to shake his hand. “Hello, Mr. Battenberg. It’s lovely seeing you again.”

He winced at my powerful grip. “You as well, Vanderhart.”

Lorelei glared daggers at her father. “I’m with Axel, remember, Dad? And there will never be anything between Brock and me.”

“Never say never, Lorelei. Besides, the end of the summer is fast approaching, and I still don’t see any kind of commitment or guarantee.” His gaze flicked toward her left hand, and then he tapped his watch. “Time is running out.”

CHAPTER 50

MY FAKE FIANCE

Lorelei

Embarrassment spilled across my cheeks, red-hot and fiery as my father tapped at his watch. He eyed Axel like he wasn’t worthy to stand in his almighty presence. Senator Battenberg would be singing an entirely different tune if I was engaged to Axel Vanderhart and his millions. Then all he’d see would be dollar signs.

Wriggling free of Axel’s hold, I grabbed my father’s wrist, the flash of his Rolex grating on my final nerve. “Excuse me, I need a minute with my dad.”

“Sure, I’ll be right here.” Axel leaned against the bar’s elaborate mahogany counter. “I’ll have your drink waiting when you get back.”

“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll need it.” I tossed a scathing glare in the senator’s direction, but he was too preoccupied scanning the room. Likely looking for Brock or his father.

As soon as we reached the end of the lavish great room, I dragged my dad into a small alcove in the hallway, sidestepping the priceless sculpture atop a marble column.

“Stop manhandling me,” he hissed and spun around, the ice in his tumbler clinking against the glass. “This is very unseemly, Lorelei.”

“Thisis unseemly?” I snarled. “How about you trying to sell me off to the highest bidder?”

“I wouldn’t have to make my intentions so obvious, if you’d only stuck to the plan. You were supposed to marry Brock Haversham and secure our family fortune.” He glared down at me, lips curling in disgust as if it was my fault he’d squandered our savings. “You gave up a sure thing for some fling with the Vanderhart boy. He’s a star quarterback with endless potential and only twenty-two years old. Do you really think he’s going to settle down now? With you?”

God, a punch in the gut would’ve hurt less. Hot tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.”

“I’m only being realistic, Lorelei.” He dragged his hand through his graying hair. “For some insane reason, Brock still wants you. He came to speak to me when he arrived in Copper Cove earlier today. He’s offered me twice the original dowry.”

“I know,” I gritted out.

He’d informed me of their conversation when he’d forced me to dance a few minutes ago. Besides the vote he needed from my father, he was clearly infatuated. Apparently, the great Brock Haversham didn’t often hear the word no. Now that I’d refused him, he was obsessed with having me.