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Now I know why.
I purse my lips, unable to hide my annoyance. "Welton, as always, it'snota pleasure to see you. Go back to your… your… whatever she is.”
His grin gets more prominent. "She is Melanie Thorpe, the very determined daughter of a business associate of mine, and apparently, she can't take a hint. Save me, please?"
I scoff. He is a freaking giant who can reduce most people to quivering masses of goo at his feet. I doubt he needs my help to get some whore to get lost. “I’d rather have a root canal without anesthetics than help you with something.”
He laughs, but it's humorless at best, and for a second, there is something in his eyes that I can’t quite name.
He looked almost sad, but maybe the millions of twinkling lights deceived me. He looks perfectly composed now, apart from his usual displeased air, but that’s a given in my presence.
“Come on, can’t you be friendly for one night?”
I take a step back and look him in the eye. "Of course I can, but why would I do it?"
He shrugs and puts both hands in his pockets. "Well, you could do it just for the sake of a change. You never know. You might even like it."
I laugh in his face. “That’s unlikely. You called me a despicable witch not two days ago.”
"Did I, now?! Was it when you called me a manipulative bastard or an arrogant prick?”
I roll my eyes at him. “I think I called you a fucker, as always. It rather suits you, by the way. I think it's a moniker that is going to stick.”
“I don’t even know how to answer that.”
I shrug. "Well, you could be as honest as you always are, drop thewand call me a despicablebitch: we both know you think it when you saywitchanyway. Go ahead. I won’t be offended.”
He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his perfect nose, and then he sighs, looking over my head for a second. "Never mind, then."
His voice is suddenly rough, and he clears his throat before he speaks again, "Do it for Jane and Carl. If Miss Thorpe keeps on hanging on my arm all night with that horrible call-girl dress and that ton of jewels weighing her down, she'll ruin the pictures."
A single chuckle escapes me at the imagery, but I suppress it almost instantly.
Once again, Sookie's words come to mind. All right then, maybe we do have a similar sense of humor. It's no big deal. I can still hate him.
I roll my eyes when I see the socialite traipsing in her high heels while trying to maintain a sexy sashay as she comes barreling toward us. Her heavily made-up eyes glower at me as if screaming, 'step-away-from-my-prey!'
“All right. I'll play nice if you do. Anything so that I don't have to come across that Barbie's almost naked ass in the scrapbook of precious memories Jane is going to make for tonight."
He laughs. It's a warm, velvety sound that comes from deep in his chest, and it gives me a shiver.
"Shall we?" he says with a charming smile, offering me his arm.
I reach one hand toward the jerk to grab his forearm, and I feel sparks pricking my skin.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I can’t believe I just accepted to shield this fucker from unwanted cloying female attention.
Hell, this is going to be a long night. I need another drink. Now.
CHAPTER6
Devon
Thank God I’m over 6’4’’; otherwise, it would be nearly impossible to spot the girls between the throngs of swaying and bumping people. I won’t call it dancing. Whatever they’re doing bears little resemblance to that activity.
The loud jumble of jarring noises that only someone very generous —or very stupid— could describe asmusicis throbbing in my temples and in my ears, deafening me.
