“Wow.” That was all he managed to say as he handed her phone back.
“I know.” She grinned before tucking her phone back into her clutch while still maintaining contact between their hands.
“I can assure you, despite our first meeting, I’ve never looked at you again and thought of one of my brothers,” she laughed softly, mindful of the long dining tables full of important guests bidding on various pieces of art, spectacular trips abroad, and jewelry. There was also the recognition of several guests who gave religiously every year.
“I should hope not.” He squeezed her thigh once more as the dinner, auction, and speeches ended. The guests were then herded toward the ballroom, where more drinks and mingling awaited.
They entered the ballroom, and he heard his name being called within seconds. The minute he turned and saw who was hailing him, he sighed in frustration. Lauren James was a researcher for his firm, and a woman he dated briefly last year—and by dated, he meant they slept together a whopping three times.
He realized after the second encounter that she was the type of woman who said she understood that sex for him was nothing more than that—companionship at its most basic. He was upfront and clear.
She was thirty-five, a divorcée, and a mother. When he told her he wasn’t interested in anything serious, she said it was the same for her, and then the homemade treats started showing up in his office, and her clothes went from business attire appropriate to strip club.
The third time was a colossal mistake. He’d conveniently avoided her for weeks, but she’d come to his office late, he’d had a bitch of a day in court, and she came bearing his favorite whiskey.
He bluntly told her he was no longer interested in anything other than friendship, but when she’d dropped to her knees and took things in hand, literally, the third and last bad decision where she was concerned commenced.
He’d managed to avoid her for months.
Lauren must have wrangled a date from some unsuspecting man who didn’t realize she would become their next stalker. He really despised clingers.
He lightly wrapped his hand around Bébhinn’s waist and placed a casual hand at her hip. She glanced at him but didn’t move from his side as Lauren landed.
“Dagr, love, I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” Lauren crooned, completely ignoring Bébhinn. There was zero chance of her not knowing his schedule. The woman stalked his secretary and spoke to her more than he did.
“Lauren.” He prayed that for once she would hear the fuck off tone of his voice. Clearly not, with the inappropriate hug that resembled a human boil, where Lauren tried to elbow Bébhinn to the side, and her cheek kisses were akin to a pestilence.
Bébhinn’s kindly smile faltered, but her elbow was now pressed firmly on top of his hand, making it clear that she didn’t wish him to remove it.
“I’ve missed you, babe,” she flipped her bleached blonde hair behind her shoulder, presumably to show off her gigantic breasts erupting out of the top of an inappropriate gown. How in the absolute hell had he ever found that woman attractive? Her personality alone should have been a three-kilometer red flag.
“I’m going to make this short. I am not your love or your babe. We are not friends or even friendly. You will cease making a spectacle at this charity event, which happens to be extremely important to me. I am here with my?—”
“Girlfriend,” Bébhinn interrupted. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, ma’am. Take me to the bar, my love. I’m dying for a Jameson.”
Lauren’s face flushed with anger, and when it looked like she was about to cause an even bigger scene, he pivoted on his heel and led Bébhinn away.
The second they were out of Lauren’s hearing, Bébhinn said, “Sorry about the ‘my love’ thing, but yikes. That woman is desperate.”
His past screw ups weren’t something he wished to discuss, but he owed Bébhinn an explanation. “Obsessed might be a better designation. Unfortunately, I got the warning from a buddy of mine too late.”
There were three separate areas where drinks were served. Dagr led her to the one furthest away from where they’d left a sputtering Lauren.
Drinks in hand, he finally looked at Bébhinn and grimaced at her questioning gaze. “Right. So, I fooled around with Lauren a few times. Three exactly. The last time, I knew I was being foolish since her personality had begun to show itself.” He shrugged in a juvenile manner, as if he had no control.
She surprised him by covering her giggle behind her hand. “My, my, my, Dagr. You must be quite something in bed,” she teased.
“Christ, don’t you dare try to embarrass me more than I already am.” They laughed at that point, the encounter absurd enough to tickle their funny bones. “But I am.”
“Am what?”
“Quite something.” He winked and nudged her side, causing another round of snickers.
Despite the Lauren encounter, the evening turned out to be one of the best evenings he’d enjoyed. Bébhinn was sharp, witty, and an excellent conversationalist. She’d spoken to his clients and friends alike—all unabashedly curious about his relationship with the young O’Faolain.
It hadn’t taken long for the presence of an Oklahoma oil billionaire’s only daughter to get around. She fielded questions and curiosity about her family with calm grace.
He should have expected his presence, but when Lee Whiten joined him and Bébhinn, he felt tension creep into his shoulders. He should have realized his friend would be at the charity. Both he and Lee had several land preservationists as clients.
