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Maybe it had been foolish of me, but with the size of this event I’d assumed my chances of running into him were next to impossible. Worst case, I’d see him across the room swarmed by beautiful women and their rich older husbands. But to find him standing next to me looking at me like that? Zero-fucking-chance.
His wintry blue eyes snaked down my body, leaving a hot trail in their wake. I already knew the flush I felt in my skin was on full display.
Maybe that’s what made him smirk.
Either way, that cocky grin on his full lips should’ve had me standing tall and asserting my dominance, but if anything, submission crept forth. It wasn’t like me at all, and to be honest, it was really fucking annoying. I pressed my knees together to quell the sudden desire that seeped through them. My stupid body reacting faster than my mind as I recalled my semi-solo sex session the other night.
I hesitated to give him my full name, but then remembered that Emily used her middle name for all business ventures. Emily Evangeline is what he would know her by so my last name wouldn’t connect us.
“Eden,” I said as I finally found my voice again. “Eden Rochere.”
My words came out breathy and heated, and not at all as I intended.
Dammit.
I hadn’t meant to be polite. If anything, I had promised myself that if I ever met this arrogant asshole in person, I’d treat him exactly how he deserved to be treated. I’d make him feel as small as he makes everyone else feel and do it with a smile on my face. In my career I’d dealt with plenty of intimidating men, and I’d always stood my ground—until tonight apparently.
He smirked and that predatory stare I’d seen in the article finally found its way to me. I had to get out of there. There was no way in hell I was succumbing to a pompous, self-loving windbag, no matter how hot his very presence got me.
“Eden,” his velvety voice repeated, “The Terrestrial paradise.”
“And you’re the Devil, right?”
“So they say,” He signaled to someone in the distance and suddenly a waiter appeared with a silver tray and two glasses of red wine. He took one glass and gestured toward the other.
“No, thank you,” I said.
“You prefer something else?”
“Actually,” I glanced around looking for an escape, “I prefer not to have a drink with you.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I don’t like you.”
I wasn’t normally rude, and it wasn’t the smartest thing to say to my sister’s current employer, but God dammit his arrogance was insufferable, and the words just flew out.
“You don’t know me,” He said before lifting the crystal to his mouth taking a long, slow sip.
“I know enough.”
“I see,” He swirled the burgundy liquid around in his glass. “So, was it the Forbes article? Or the one in Bloomberg?”
“Neither.”
He nodded to himself, “GQ, then.”
"Does it really matter?”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you read, Ms. Rochere.”
“I don’t, but considering you were the one I heard it from, I’ll take it as the truth.”
Deep laughter echoed from his full lips, “You realize this is my party?”
“Yes.”
“And yet you came anyway?”
