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Well, he didn't have to stick around for that.

She needed to get rid of this guy? That was her problem.

He wasn't going to be fucking used like that.

He turned on his heel and headed out, back through the wide doors and into the party.

The plarty was still in full swing and he knew one place he could to be sure of having a good time.

It didn't take long to find her. Like always, she was three steps from the bar, humming to herself while she waited for someone or other to wait on her every goddamned need or want.

"Debbie," he said.

She patted the velvet next to her. "My prince charming. I thought you'd never come."

"Here I am. All yours."

Chapter Eleven

"Did you hear that?" Natalie glanced toward the shrubs. There was a figure there, definitely, and Brooks had already been gone for so long--

"Who cares? We need to talk about this, but first we need to get you the hell out of here." Franco's grip on her wrist tightened, but she shook her head.

There was something going on here. She couldn't say what or why, but a knot of steel was already tying itself tight in her chest and sinking low into her stomach.

She looked down at their interlocked hands, and then said, "Let's just find Brooks and reschedule."

"I'll handle Brooks. You need to climb over the fence and get out of here. If Dominic sees you together—"

"Franco, please—"

"No, Natalie. This is serious. Get out. I'm telling you now."

"Fine. I'll leave. But first I have to find Brooks. I'll tell him to meet you out here, okay?"

"If you think for a minute that I'm going to let you go back in there alone—"

"Just trust me." She couldn't let Franco come with her. When she saw Brooks, it would have to be on her own.

Tonight, she'd have to explain everything. About Dominic. About Brooks.

About her whole unabridged life as Natalie Del Rossi.

She stood and carefully disengaged herself from Franco's grasp. "It's going to be all right." The reassurance was one she very much did not feel, but she had to try. Franco nodded, though he didn't bother to meet her gaze.

"You were never the problem," he mumbled.

"I'll be in the middle of a crowd. Save all your chivalry for the tabloids, okay?" She grinned at him, and though he returned the smile, she knew neither of them had felt it.

Sucking in her bottom lip, she marched toward the double doors, making her shoulders a little squarer with every step. This was just a misunderstanding. It was natural, she guessed, for a man to be jealous.

Even sort of flattering.

Like he wanted her to be all his.

A smile, genuine this time, tugged at the corner of her mouth and she thought again of how ironic this whole thing with Brooks had been. The man who flitted from woman to woman was jealous...over her.

He wanted her.

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