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She glares at me, her glowing hazel-green eyes set deep in the sea of black around them. Her face is very pale, and it’s not just her wrists that seem too thin.Allof her seems too thin.
“Speak of the devil…” I growl quietly.
Tempest glares venomously at me and moves as if to yank her arms back. But I just grip her soft wrists a bit tighter.
“And he shall appear.”
Her chin juts defiantly. Her mouth purses.
“Now: I do hope I haven’t missed the surprise?”
I’m neither an idiot, nor a hothead. The wise move here would be to defuse the tensions of the room as quickly as possible and tackle this like rational adults. Except I’m not thinking rationally. One, because I don’tlikebeing called a “sick psychopath”, especially behind my back. Two, because I really don’t appreciate the way Gabriel and Alistair seem to be barely holding themselves back from physically attacking me.
But the third and biggest reason for the implosion of my rational thinking is the one I never saw coming.
It’sher.
And I don’t know why.
I mean the girl is looking at me like she’s trying to decide if she’d get more pleasure from stabbing me in the eye or in the dick-hole. She’s also dressed like she’s about to go on stage and sing backups for The Cure or Morrissey. She’s too short and too thin for my tastes. Too gothy. Too…stabby-looking.
And yet…
There’s a hum that sparks off her skin into my fingertips; asomethingthat the nearness of her does to me.
Fuck.
It’s attraction.
That’s very inconvenient, given that I’m about to marry heraunt. Not to mention her obvious interest in putting out cigarettes on my balls or pushing sharp pointy things into the soft parts of my anatomy.
I need whatever this is to get the fuck out of my systemright fucking now?—
“Get your fucking hands off of me, you pedo piece of shit.”
And a solution presents itself…
Instantly, the way I’m rapidly drowning in the nearness of her vanishes. My pulse thudding in my ears goes silent. The blood leaves my rapidly swelling dick.
“Excuse me?”
Tempest glares at me, twisting her wrists and finally yanking them free. She takes a step back, then another, crossing her arms over her chest and sneering at me as she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth.
“You heard me.”
“Tempest!” Charles snaps, quickly marching over to us. He shoves her aside, shooting her a menacing glare before turning to beam at me ingratiatingly like the oily, self-serving little fuck that he is.
“Mr. Sartorre, welcome to my home.” He sticks out a hand, which I reluctantly take. “Let me just say, I think this arrangement is going to befantasticfor the both of us, and I’m excited for our families to be?—”
“What the fuck did you call me?”
I ignore Charles, leveling a withering look at Tempest behind him. She just shrugs.
“I called you what you are. You’re marrying a fuckingchild, aren’t you?”
“Surely, growing up in the family you did, you are familiar with the concept of an arranged marriage. And your aunt is eighteen years old.”
“Been marking the days down on your calendar, have you?” Alistair hisses quietly.
