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It’s unsettling to watch him like this, cold and detached to achieve his desired outcome. His words come back to me: I’m looking for extraordinary. Is this what he would be like to achieve that goal? Emotionless and hard; is that why he pushed me to the side . . . to make way for his extraordinary woman?
“Sold,” the auctioneer yells as he slams the hammer down. “Mr. Miles, congratulations.”
The crowd all clap in awe.
“Honestly, he has more money than sense, the painting isn’t even that great,” I say.
“Do you see that handbag?” Daniel leans in and whispers. He gestures to a woman.
“Yes.”
“Fifteen thousand pounds.”
My eyes nearly pop from their sockets. “What the hell?” I whisper.
Daniel laughs and pulls me closer with his arm around me as we chat.
I glance up to see the glare of Elliot, the fury emanating from him is thermonuclear.
Huh?
He marches over. “Get your fucking hands off her,” he growls.
My eyes widen in horror.
What?
Daniel’s grip around my waist tightens. “Go to hell.”
Chapter 16
“Elliot,” I stammer. “What are you doing?”
“I said. Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her,” Elliot sneers through gritted teeth.
Daniel smiles sarcastically, totally unruffled; he raises an eyebrow. “What’s your fucking problem?”
“You are.”
Holy crap. I pull out of Daniel’s grip, this is a nightmare. I glance around to see that people are noticing the commotion.
Elliot steps forward until they come face to face.
I step between them, my back to Daniel. “Will you stop it?” I whisper.
“Get out of my way, Kathryn,” Elliot whispers angrily.
“Go home, pretty boy, she’s here with me,” Daniel whispers.
Elliot’s nostrils flare as he teeters on the edge of a complete meltdown.
“Will you two stop it?” I whisper. “Elliot, I want to talk to you . . . outside.”
His eyes stay glued to Daniel, like a cobra ready to strike.
What the hell?
“Now, Elliot.” I grab his hand and pull him back from Daniel. “We need to talk.”
He ignores me.
“Now.” I drag him through the crowd and out of the back doors and onto the terrace. I pull him over into the corner. His hands are clenched by his sides. Fury is oozing out of him like a volcano.
“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper angrily.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls. “You ended it with me . . . for him?”
“No. Who said we were ended?”
“I’m not fucking stupid, Kate, he’s all over you like a rash.” He drags his hand through his hair as he grapples for control.
“We’re just friends,” I whisper.
“With benefits.”
“No.” I throw my hands up in disgust. “Me and you are friends with benefits.”
“You left out the dramatics part.”
“What? You spoke to me like crap,” I snap. “And for your information, you’re the one that wanted casual.”
“With no other fucking people,” he interrupts.
“Oh, you can go home with Varuscka but I can’t live with him?”
“It was a fucking lift and nothing more.”
I roll my eyes. “The jury is still out on that one.”
“Does he sneak upstairs whenever he’s horny?” He nods as if picturing something. “I’m getting the full picture now. Of course, that’s it.”
“Listen.” I poke him hard in the chest. “If you want to spend time with me, act like a grownup and not a fucking petulant child.”
“What?” he explodes loudly; people around us all turn to see what the commotion is.
“Keep your voice down,” I whisper angrily. “Where’s the swoony guy who took me out?”
He holds his hands out wide. “I’m right fucking here, Kate.”
“No. You’re not. You’re being Elliot Miles on me, the power-hungry control freak, and I don’t like him. I’ve never liked him.”
“I can’t change who I am.”
“I’m not asking for a marriage proposal, Elliot. I’m not even asking for a full-on relationship.”
“What are you asking for?”
I stare at him for a moment as I collect my thoughts. I know I can get hurt here, it’s a real possibility, but I’m sick of being scared of feeling something . . . anything. And even if this ends badly, I won’t have the what-if regrets that I already do.
Fuck it, I’m going to try.
I have to.
“I want you to give us a chance, and not be an asshole every time you get scared,” I whisper softly. I need to cool this situation down.
“I’m not scared,” he spits.
“Bullshit.” I take his hand in mine. “Stop trying to hide from me, Elliot. I can see straight through you.”
He snaps his eyes away from me, infuriated. “I don’t want him touching you.”
“Okay.”
His eyes meet mine.
“Elliot . . . I don’t want to end this . . . whatever this is,” I whisper. “I’d like to see where it goes, but I don’t want you making me feel like shit every time you’re having a bad day.”
A frown crosses his brow.
“Can we just see how it goes, and you not be an asshole for two minutes?” I ask.
