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TWENTY-TWO
Just like always, that deep voice made me shiver with anticipation. This time, though, it was flavored with fear.
Clearly just off the pitch, Xavier was wearing Troop’s red and white polo shirt, white second-skin pants that left little of his powerful body to the imagination, and riding boots that made him look like he was on his way to a Regency duel. He might have cut a dashing figure if it weren’t for the look of outright murder in his bright blue eyes.
He didn’t look like the kind, passionate man I’d fallen for again over the course of several months, but the one who’d strode into my life last December with the intent to overturn everything without a care for the cost to others.
He didn’t look like the man I loved. He looked like the man I hated.
“You motherfucker,” Xavier growled, prowling toward us like a red-striped tiger. Without his helmet, his black hair had fallen into his face, just grazing the tops of his knife-sharpened cheekbones. “You slimy littlefuck. What did I say would happen if you touched her again?”
“Xavi, don’t,” I said quietly, already noticing the way several people were peering over their cocktails at us.
“Please,” Adam retorted. “You’ve always expected everyone to be terrified of these tantrums you throw when things don’t go your way. But not everyone is scared of the big bad Xavier Parker.”
“If people are scared of me,” Xavier said as he grabbed Adam’s collar and jerked him up so they were nose to nose, “it’s because I give them a good fucking reason to be.”
By the time he was finished talking, the entire tent had gone quiet. Whispers floated through the air, and I had a feeling there were more than a few cell phones filming.
“Xavier.” Georgina’s voice echoed across the tent in a hushed tone with clear disappointment.
“Xavi,” I said in a low tone between my teeth. “You need to stop.”
“Why?” he asked without taking his eyes from Adam’s irritatingly stubborn face. “Why the fuck should I?”
“Because otherwise, you’re going to sabotage every goal you had in coming here,” I said in a low voice that hopefully only he could hear. “And besides.” I took a deep breath. “You know, this is really between you and me. So let’s go talk. Somewhere without an audience.”
Xavier took three long breaths. I knew because I counted, watching the rise and fall of his chest until the last one was expelled. Then, at last, he dropped Adam to the ground and turned to me, that blue fire blazing in his eyes.
“Fine,” he said before turning to Adam. “This isn’t over, though. You touch her, you’re dead. And you’ll pay for that fucking kiss.”
Then he grabbed my hand and towed me out of the tent after him.
* * *
“Xavi,slow down! Xavi, oh my God,stop!”
We were all the way behind one of several sets of stables before I managed to prise Xavier’s hand from around my wrist. Bits of mud were splattered around my ankles. I didn’t even want to think about what Regina’s pristine cream shoes looked like.
When I broke free, Xavier finally whirled around, sending a spray of dirt out behind his boots along with tufts of grass.
“What the fuck were you doing with him?” he demanded. “I’m gone for five fucking minutes, and then I find you snogging that stale scone in the middle of my fucking polo match. I know you’re starved for attention, but for fuck’s sake, Ces, are you trying to get me arrested?”
Under normal circumstances, I might have laughed. There was no way he would know that kissing Adam had roughly the same appeal to me as a day-old pastry.
But it didn’t matter now. I was too mad.
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked. “Five minutes? We had a horrid fight this morning, the Ortham ball was a disaster, but I came here anyway becauseyousaid you needed us. Me and Sof. You know, your daughter?”
“That’s completely unfair,” Xavier cut in. “Sofia’s not the one with the problems here. It’s you.”
“You’re damn right, it’s me!” I yelped. “Why did you even want me here? To ignore me all over again? I honestly don’t know why you want me to attend any of these things with you, considering the second we arrive, I’m freaking invisible.”
He looked at me like I was speaking gibberish. “What do you want me to do? Ask you to research wind farms? Slap you onto the back of my pony?”
“Maybe you don’t have to play at all!” I shot back. “No one forced you to do the club a favor. Just like no one forced you to ride up to the fence to flirt with Imogene like she was a medieval lady giving a knight a favor.”
Xavier’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking, right? You’re fucking joking.Imogene?”
