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Keith seems to relax a bit at my words, but I can still see the fight in his eyes. Thankfully, Sam comes to my rescue. She steps up and grabs Keith by the elbow. “Come on, let’s give them a second alone.”
It takes a minute, but finally he gives in. “We’ll be right inside,” he says.
As Sam and Keith walk back into the club, I hear Keith mutter to Sam under his breath. “Is that really Evan Kohl?”
Evan doesn’t hear or pretends not to—or maybe he doesn’t care. He seems far less motivated to keep our relationship discreet than I am. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Evan and I are finally alone. Tension arcs like electricity in the air between us.
He is visibly angry—jaw clenched, beautiful features flushed, and there’s this look in his deep-blue eyes. It actually scares me a little. Makes me think of that story he told me, of how he feared himself prone to violence and destruction because of his father’s history.
He seems at a loss for words, his hand working at his sides. His gaze fixes on mine. “Why aren’t you wearing the necklace?” His voice is as hard as granite.
I swallow, suddenly a little afraid. My hand flies to my collarbone, to the necklace I know isn’t there.
“It didn’t go with my outfit,” I say with a toss of my head to bring an air of flippancy that I most certainly do not feel. The alcohol has definitely lent me lots of false bravado.
Fury flashes in those eyes and he bends, his face very close to mine, and I’m suddenly given a taste of what Keith must have been feeling with Evan right in my face. I jerk away from him, but his hand comes out, clamping around the back of my neck, holding me still.
“You seem to find it funny to continually defy me. It’s obvious that you need to be taught a lesson on how you are to behave while we are under contract together.”
With a huff and a swallow and not a little bit of a thrill, I wonder what this lesson will entail.
Because I had a lesson to teach him as well—ignore me at your own peril.
As I took a breath and tried to calm the beating of my heart, I couldn’t help but anticipate the imminent clash of our wills, with an almost inevitable sense of who would win.
Chapter 23
Promises & Ultimatums
For the first time since meeting Kohl, I feel something like real fear. My bravado falters, and I struggle to find something witty to say, but my mind is frozen and the words are caught in my throat.
He’s standing in front of me—looking both furious and fucking hot—waiting for my reply.
Finally, I manage to regain my voice. “I told you—and Miriam—I already had plans.”
It’s all I can muster, and already I can see it isn’t what he wanted to hear. His eyes narrow and a muscle starts pulsing in his jaw. Shit. I can see the anger he’s struggling hard to control, and suddenly my heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest.
Maybe it’s stupidity or just a test, but I turn on my heel and head back toward the bar. If I’m being honest with myself, I want Evan to follow me. I want him to take control and insist I stay with him.
Halfway to the door, he grabs my elbow from behind, pulling me to a stop. “No, you are coming with me.”
I whip around to face him, almost tripping over my own heels, but his powerful body is there to catch me. I struggle against him, but the alcohol has taken away my fight. I glance up at him through my lashes, his grip still tight around my elbow.
“What do you want, Kohl?”
His gaze is hard and unforgiving. “I want what’s mine.”
He pulls me to his car—a brand new black Tesla—which is parked haphazardly in a red zone on the street, and opens the passenger door, ushering me inside. I sink into the soft leather, clutching my purse in my lap as he shuts my door and gets into the driver’s seat.
Excitement rushes through me as we zip through the streets of Pasadena before hitting the freeway headed west, the opposite direction of the house on Hill that he rented for me.
“Where are you taking me?”
He doesn’t answer, he just keeps his gaze fixed on the road.
It’s not until we reach the 10 freeway that I suspect we’re headed toward the beach. It’s a balmy night, and he has the windows rolled down. The wind whips through my hair, ruining my hour-long fight with the flat iron, but I welcome it. The fresh air feels good on my skin and it sobers me up.
After thirty tense minutes of silence, we make our way down a long, dark driveway that leads to an underground parking garage. Evan presses a button on his visor, and the gate slides open.
