Page 44 of XO Karma

But his expression, and the way his envious eyes trail my hold on her, fill me with great satisfaction.

“I’m Judious Westerford,” he says in disbelief. “Of the Westerford Oil family.”

I twist my lips. “Sorry, never heard of you.”

I have heard of him. His family is worth more than God, but I’d argue they do the Devil’s work.

“Well, let me give you a quick reminder.” He waves a hand. “This is my estate.” These pretentious assholes are all so predictable. I couldn’t give two shits about this guy’s property. I’m more concerned with how he’s acquired it.

“Apologies, I just came as a plus one. All I was told was to put on a tux.” My eyes turn to Lily. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

Her brows draw together, and she turns back to Judious. “Don’t mind him, Jude,” she says, her smile tight. “He gets along better with the dead than the living.” I squeeze her side and she flinches, yet doesn’t blow my bogus story. In fact, she’s actually allowing this guy to think we’re possibly more than… mutual stalkers?

“Then maybe you should go gander at the art,” Jude says with an unamused smile. “They would revel in your company.”

“I’ve just come from there.” I run a hand along Lily’s exposed spine, and goosebumps scatter in my wake. “Had to see what this one was doing.” My eyes find Lily’s, a scowl on her face and a stupid grin on mine. The floral scent of her shampoo surrounds me and makes it hard to concentrate.

“Jude,” a familiar voice says, pulling us back to the present. Isla walks up, and he slips an arm around her waist.

“Ah, the woman of the hour,” he says with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“Most”—her eyes briefly meet mine—“of the attendees are very interested and excited for the bidding to start.”

He grins. “Wonderful.”

My stomach sinks. “Woman of the hour?” I ask.

“You really know nothing, do you?” Jude mocks. “This is my wife, Isla.” I mask my surprise, glancing between the two. Isla appears to be about twenty years older than this man child, but I suppose money talks. “She’s the artist of the pieces spread throughout the home.”

“Oh.” I stifle a nervous laugh, cheeks flushing hot. Of course I ridiculed the art directly to the artist. “We’ve met.”

Jude’s eyes bounce between us, and he opens his mouth. “Can we speak for a moment?” Isla asks, cutting him off.

“Enjoy the party,” Jude says warmly to Lily, then glares my way, and they excuse themselves.

Before Lily can utter a word, I drag her to the dance floor.

I spin her into position, and a breath escapes her as she slams against my chest. “What are you doing?” she huffs in a hushed tone, body tense.

“Dancing.” My hand rests on her waist, the other holding hers.

She tugs away, but I tighten my grip. “Is there a reason you won’t let go?”

“You’re a flight risk.”

A pretty smirk breaks through. “It’s called self-preservation.”

“Oh, trust me.” Bringing our connected hands to my collar, I tug it down slightly. “I’m well aware of your methods.”

She grins, gently dragging a finger along the scar in a way that makes me shudder. “Just a little token of my love.”

“Speaking of tokens of love, I rather enjoyed your choice of wardrobe a few weeks ago,” I tell her, and she rolls her eyes. “My shirt looked good on you.”

“It was an emergency. A drink spilled on me.”

I pout, unable to hide my amusement. “Pity.”

Her eyes narrow. “I knew you had something to do with it.”