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Sense flew and made way for the sheer humiliation coursing through me. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t think.
Hawk peered in my direction. I met his glance only briefly before whirling and dashing from the ballroom.
I didn’t really see where I was going. I just knew I had to get out of there.
What was Pris’s problem? She washelpingme? By spilling wine in my face so it would stain my dress?
Did she think it would get me to leave my date with Hawk?
And what had she meant, I could never have anything more with him after tonight? What did she know about anything?
“Ella!” Hawk’s voice reached me, and I paused, using the wall for support.
His steps resonated down the hall until he joined my side. His gaze trailed over my face, meeting my eyes with concern and fury.
“Are you okay? What happened back there? Who was the woman who did this to you?”
All I could do was stare. He was handsome on a good day, but I’d never seen him agitated before, and boy, was his jaw ready to grind.
His eyes flashed with indignation on my behalf, and he’d never been more attractive.
I didn’t want to answer his question. And go into my whole pathetic family dynamic?
My stepsister splashed wine in my face because she wanted me to leave the ball and go work for a job I told her mom I wasn’t doing? Oh, and she’d threatened that I could never be with Hawk?
She didn’t even know him!
It sounded nuts in my head. I could only imagine how the words would come across when they left my mouth.
Hawk frowned, sizing me up again as if seeking a solution. He rubbed his jaw, considering something.
“I’ll have my security remove thatwoman from the premises. I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I have something you could change into, if you wanted.”
I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. He was constantly surprising me.
I’d expected backlash. I’d expected him to demand to know who did this, to hunt down Pris and charge her back payments for everything he’d spent to open the establishments for me the way he had tonight.
But he didn’t seem to care about the money having been wasted.
He was taking it in stride.
“You’re offering me clothes?” I asked.
He pulled out his phone, tapped out a message, and then pocketed it again before laughing and running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Another late-night shopping spree?”
“No. My clothes.” Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped first one side of my face, then the other, before handing it to me.
I dabbed my neck and chest, knowing the small piece of cloth wasn’t enough. I did need to change.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he said, “and I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay if you’re up for it—though you might not be comfortable in that anymore after?—”
His eyes flicked down my dress, lingering and casting their perusal all over me. I burned under the heat of that glance and the unwavering admiration there.
He cleared his throat and brought his glance back up to my face. “I have clothes you could change into, that’s all.”
