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“Fucking asshole,” Gavin said, bitterness coating his derogatory words.
“Don’t vilify him, Gavin,” Arabella said, giving the other man a look filled with nothing but scorn and contempt, which was exactly how she felt about him and the situation. “Maddux was a gentleman for defending me, while you’re the one who put a handprint on my arm that will most likely bruise by tomorrow because you felt you had the right to claim me like some caveman. But here’s a news flash for you. You don’t have any right to me at all.”
Gavin’s lips thinned with spite. “You have no idea who or what you’re dealing with when it comes to Maddux Wilder. I’m warning you, Arabella. Stay away from him. He’s a dangerous, malicious man.”
The only dangerous, malicious man Arabella could see at the moment was Gavin, though she couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation she’d overheard in the limousine on the ride over between him and her father, and the insinuation that something bad could possibly happen to her dad at tonight’s ball.
Clearly, there was more between Maddux, her father, and Gavin than she knew about, but the man she’d just danced with had been nothing but respectful and considerate with her. More than Gavin had ever been. She wasn’t sure what to make of any of it.
The serving of dinner was announced, and having remembered their assigned table from the invitation, Arabella started toward the dining area with Gavin beside her. As soon as she felt his attempt to touch her elbow to try and escort her, she wrenched her arm away, stopped in her tracks, and glared at him.
“Under any circumstance, do not touch me.”
Annoyance flashed across his features at her blunt order, and for a moment, she thought he was going to do it anyway. Instead, his gaze darted around the near vicinity, and as if fearing that Maddux might appear to rip his hands off her again, he instead balled his fingers into fists at his sides.
“Stop being so childish,” he snapped.
“I will when you stop being an overbearing jerk.” She continued on to their table, leaving him to follow her like a pet dog.
Her father was already there, and when Gavin attempted to redeem himself by pulling out a chair for her, Arabella ignored the gesture and took the seat on the opposite side of her father, so that her dad was sitting between her and Gavin as a barrier.
Her father glanced at each one of them and sighed. “Did the two of you have another tiff?”
Arabella arranged the skirt of her dress beneath the table while smiling at her dad. “Yes, but I believe we’ve come to an understanding, and as long as Gavin keeps his hands off me for the foreseeable future, we’ll be just fine, Father.”
Her dad frowned at that announcement, and when he glanced at Gavin, the annoyed-looking man sitting beside him just shook his head as if to say he didn’t want to talk about it, and Arabella was fine with that.
As the table around them filled up, Arabella conversed with the younger woman sitting beside her who was there with her parents, while they were treated to a five-course meal that had been prepared by a world-renowned Michelin star chef. Everything was decadent and divine, and when the feast was over, she and her tablemate, Andrea, had become fast friends and decided to enjoy the rest of the evening in each other’s company, instead of hanging out with their parents . . . or Gavin.
As they explored the ballroom and all it had to offer, they drank champagne, ate chocolate-covered strawberries, and danced to the songs Raevynn belted out. She returned to the silent auction, bummed to see that the bidding on the Jane Austen novels had reached over one hundred grand, but Andrea cheered her up by dragging her over to the photo op area, where they took fun pictures with dramatic backdrops and silly, life-
size cardboard cutouts of their favorite fairy-tale characters . . . and with Arabella’s earlier encounter with Maddux Wilder still on her mind, she chose the Beast image to pose with, since it reminded her so much of the rough-around-the-edges man who’d been surprisingly gentle with her yet tough enough to protect her from Gavin’s abuse.
The next few hours passed quickly, and no matter where she and Andrea ended up, Arabella was on the constant lookout for Maddux, hoping to get another glimpse of him . . . or dance with him again. Much to her disappointment, the host of the ball was nowhere to be seen.
After her fourth glass of champagne in as many hours, Arabella let Andrea know that she was headed to the ladies’ room while her new friend, who was flirting with a man she’d just met, stayed behind. Ten minutes later, as she exited the women’s lounge, she saw her father and Gavin walk by, being escorted toward the private stairs that led to the second-story balcony by a man she didn’t recognize. Her father looked annoyed and reluctant as he followed the gentleman, who appeared to be in his late thirties, her dad’s reddening face lined with enough anxiety to concern her.
She fell into step behind the three men, keeping to the columns and outer areas as she followed . . . close enough to hear their conversation and keep an eye on her father, but managing to stay out of their line of sight at the same time.
“Vincent, I don’t think this is the time or place to address this matter,” her dad said, his voice gruff with growing agitation.
The man named Vincent stopped at the staircase and turned to face her father, his dark gaze as shrewd as his expression as he addressed her dad. “You’ve avoided me and the situation for the past month, which is far more time than I allow any of my other borrowers,” he said in a direct manner. “If this is my only way to get your attention and discuss repayment of your loan that is increasing by the day with interest fees, then so be it. You know exactly how this process works, so let’s avoid the inevitable, shall we?”
As Arabella listened to the man’s words, her stomach twisted into painful knots at the notion that her father was in some kind of financial trouble. And from the sounds of things, he didn’t owe money to a reputable institution, but rather someone who was quickly running out of patience with her father’s inability to pay back the loan.
“I’ve dealt with your father since you were in diapers,” her dad tried to reason, a slight desperation threading his voice. “He’s never had a problem with me requesting a grace period or skipping a payment or two when things are tight.”
“As you well know, my father is no longer running the business. I am, and I’ve been more than lenient with you and your many lapses in payment.”
All business, Vincent unlatched the red rope securing the staircase and glanced from Gavin, who was still standing by her father’s side, back to her dad. “Would you like to discuss this issue with or without Gavin in the room?”
Her father exhaled a breath, his complexion having paled considerably over the past few minutes. “He’s aware of the situation and I would prefer that he be present.”
A patronizing smirk curved the other man’s lips. “We won’t be breaking any bones today, if that’s your concern.”
“It’s not,” her father replied, but considering the nerves Arabella detected in his normally confident voice, she knew he was putting on a brave face.
With her heart beating wildly in her throat, she watched the trio ascend their way to the second level. Each step her father took was slow and tentative, as if he was about to face the gallows or something equally dreadful. When they rounded a corner and Arabella could no longer see them, she panicked because all she could think about was her father’s weak heart and the possibility that this stressful situation might prompt another life-threatening attack.
