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“I’ll speak to you any damn way I choose,” I told her. “Now move.”
“Ezra, you damn well know who I am.”
I snorted. “I don’t even know your name, sweetheart. And I don’t care.” Her eyes dilated and her head snapped back. Offense was stamped all over her. I meant it when I said I didn’t care, she was in my way and the woman I needed to talk to was passing right by. The words were effective, the blonde withdrew a step and I headed for Lainey.
I’d hoped she hadn’t netted an invitation, but goddammit, the Rolsons were just there and Mark had taken Lainey’s hand. He cradled it like it was a prized possession. Not that he held onto it for long, not with Hardigan staring at him wearing something close to murder face.
Huh. Maybe he was good for something.
I claimed another glass of champagne on my way to them and offered it to Lainey as she stepped back from Mark Rolson. She blinked in surprise, then flicked a look from me to where I’d been before then back. No, the blonde wasn’t with me and I smiled. “You looked thirsty,” I told her and Lainey shook her head before refocusing on Mark again.
“Thank you for the invitation,” she said. “I’m very excited to be here.”
“Graham,” Rolson greeted me. “It’s good to see you again, if you’ll give me a moment, I want to get Miss Benedict a good spot.”
“Not at all,” I replied, locking eyes with the man. “I’m here to look after her interests as well, so we’ll just go together.”
I could almostfeelLainey’s sigh, but Rolson’s objections died unspoken when he glanced from me to Hardigan. No, Rolson wasn’t finding any alliances there.
“Of course,” Rolson said, then led the way. Lainey fell into step with him, her champagne glass in hand, and Milo eyed me. I ignored him. Hardigan was a problem. A huge one. The last place he needed to be was in the middle of all of this, particularly if he was bringing Lainey with him.
Rolson moved as though to put his hand on Lainey’s lower back and Hardigan just cleared his throat. The other man didn’t quite jump but it was moderately amusing to see his hand fall away like he meant it.
“As I was saying,” Rolson continued when we reached a high-top near the front of the room, “this evening’s auction will include a number of pieces from various collections, some private, some—more than private. All transactions will be handled electronically. We like to keep these events civilized. Merely raise your hand to increase the bids, everything goes up in increments of five thousand, unless otherwise specified.”
“Of course.” Lainey placed her glass on the table, she hadn’t touched it. “The provenance of the pieces?”
Rolson chuckled. “Lainey—may I call you Lainey?”
“You can call her Miss Benedict,” I interjected, fixing the other man with a hard stare. Mark Rolson damn well knew better. Lainey was well beyond his realm of possibility. If he didn’t behave, I’d deliver a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. “She also doesn’t need you anymore. Move along. I’ll look after her.”
Dislike filled Rolson’s eyes. I didn’t care. He was a nobody. A broker. A middleman. They came and they went. He couldn’t afford to offend or contradict me and he damn well knew it. “Of course, Mr. Graham. Miss Benedict,” he said, with a nod to her then flicked a look past her to Hardigan. Since neither of us offered him an introduction, he just excused himself.
“Was that really necessary?” Lainey asked and I glanced down at her. She was so fucking beautiful. Too beautiful for the shit floating in this room tonight.
“Yes, I told you earlier. He’s a bore. This isn’t the place for you. I can call a car to get you home—or better, I can take you there myself.” King wanted a painting, but he wanted her out of the way more. So, if I got her to leave, he could get his own damn painting.
“You’re in a mood,” she said with a shake of her head. Another server came by with fresh champagne. I finished my glass and took another.
“You should have a drink,” I told her. “These evenings go much better when lubricated.”
“Hmmm,” she hummed the sound noncommittally then turned all of her attention on Hardigan. “Pretty Boy…”
I hated that fucking nickname.
The man in question didn’t quite smile as he locked gazes with me. Yeah, we understood each other. He didn’t like me. I didn’t like him. She didn’t belong with him. She never would. I just needed to let her get it out of her system.
It was that or take her back to the island. Nowthatwas a tempting thought. The island had done a lot for us.
“Could you see if you could get us water? They’re only going to circulate alcohol right here but there’s a bar and bartender…”
Hardigan flicked another look at me then down at her. “You will stay right here?”
“Promise. If Ezra tries to kidnap me, I’ll scream.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll keep an eye on you the whole time.” That was a warning for me. Dick. “I’ll be right back.” Then he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth before straightening and strolling away.
