Jonas Wolfe stares, those violet eyes piercing straight through me. God, he smells good. Like tobacco and coffee, smoldering in a leather jacket and ripped jeans right before me.
“Right.” Gripping my shoulders, Jonas forces me upright. “And I’m not ten seconds away from firing my best employee for overserving.”
“I didn’t overserve her,” Blue snaps, folding his arms over his chest. “Apparently she’s a lightweight.”
“She is right here,” I say, trying to jerk out of Jonas’s hold, only to have him dig his fingers into my bare biceps. “It’s inappropriate for you to be touching me.”
“It is,” he agrees, a spark of amusement flashing in his heated gaze.
Or is the heat coming from me? My face feels warm suddenly, and I feel a bead of sweat chase the line of my spine beneath my pink corset.
Swallowing through my dry mouth, I lift my chin. “Maybe you should stop.”
“Maybe I should.”
But he doesn’t.
If anything, his grip tightens, and then he’s hauling me to my feet. I can’t stop staring at the sharp curve of his jaw, hidden beneath a thin layer of stubble—less facial hair than he had at the party the other night.
My fingers buzz in tune with the beat of my heart, and I reach up to see if it’s as rough as it looks.
Coarse strands poke my skin, and his brows rise. A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, and I feel liquid when he grasps my wrist.
I giggle at the size of him wrapped around me. “Your hands are huge.”
Jonas scowls, glancing at Blue. “Was her drink unattended at any point?”
“I… I don’t know.” Blue shifts, scratching at his elbow. Someone calls his name down the counter, and he holds up a hand to them. “Maybe? I just came over a few minutes before you showed up.”
Fingers pinch my chin, and Jonas jerks me into him, tilting my head back as he inspects my eyes. It feels like I’m swimming, struggling to stay afloat as his irises fade from that bright purple to dark, stormy blue.
“Your eyes keep changing colors.”
“Trick of the lighting. Who are you here with?”
“Why?” I ask, poking him in the chest. “Jealous?”
For some reason, the word just tumbles out, unbidden. Even though I don’t know this man, nor does he have any reason to feel anything when it comes to me.
I’m flirting with danger, standing at the edge of a cliff and trying to convince myself not to take the plunge, even as my foot steps into the air.
If Daddy and Mama saw me right now, tangled up in the enemy, they’d have me committed for sure. Part of me should be concerned about the other people in the bar and the things they’ll whisper online before I’ve left tonight, but my mind is too muddy for me to concentrate on any consequences.
Jonas’s frown deepens. “Believe me, love. You couldn’t handle it if I was.”
My eyes widen, and my lips part to refute that, but then he’s shifting and pulling me away from the bar. Heads turn as we make our way to the back of the room, past filled booths and sweaty bodies, and my entire body feels like it’s on fire as he leads me into a locked room.
Before, I was only contemplating jumping off the cliff. Now, I’ve launched myself off the edge, and am free-falling out of control.
Closing the door behind us, Jonas brings me to a leather sofa against the far wall of the room, and I sit down slowly, taking in the scenery around me; a large desk and filing cabinet sits in the middle of the room, and there’s a hutch against the wall across from me with a glass decanter and bowl of grapes on top.
I sink into the leather and let out a sigh. Jonas brings a plastic cup over and shoves it in my face.
“Drink.”
My eyes narrow as I take it. “How do I know you haven’t drugged it?”
“I’m pretty sure someone already beat me to it.”
Snorting, I lift the cup and sniff twice before taking a sip. “Why would someone drug me?”
Jonas moves backward, discarding his jacket and leaning against the corner of the desk. It takes me a moment to realize we must be in his office, and again I’m cursing my brother for dragging me here of all places.
“Because you’re a girl, and you’re alone at a seedy pub?”
Balancing the cup on my knee, I scoff. “I’m not a girl. I’m twenty-three.”
“Still far too young for me.”
I’m not sure why, but that stirs something in my gut. It warms despite the ice water, and I press my hand against my abdomen to try and tamp it down.
“Good thing I’m not trying to ride your dick, then.” The words escape before I can bite them back, and I regret them almost immediately.
Not because anything shifts in the air. In fact, Jonas seems completely unfazed by the comment at all, and somehow that makes me feel worse.
“Who were you with tonight?”
My head lolls back, resting against the sofa, and my eyes fall closed even though I know better. I shouldn’t be letting my guard down at all right now, especially in the presence of a stranger I know has evil in his bones, but I can’t seem to help it.
As if weighed down by an invisible force, my body slumps at once, and I fit the cup between my knees.
“I need you to stay awake, love.” He sounds closer, but I can’t open my eyes to check. “Talk to me. I’ve never seen you at my pub before tonight. Who brought you?”
“My brother,” I say—at least, I think I say it. The words sound garbled to my ears, and I can’t really feel my lips.
“Staging some sort of Primrose family coup?”
Laughter bubbles in my chest. “No, nothing like that.” I pause, gathering my thoughts as they float around me. “People saw us together tonight, though. You and me.”
“That’s probably true.”
“They’ll talk, you know. Exaggerate and make things up.”
He hums. “I suppose we’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
My stomach twists at the thought of my father hearing that I was canoodling with the man who tried to kill him—who may have succeeded, if not for my presence in the kitchen that night.
Stupidly, the notion of his disappointment weighs heavy in my soul for a beat. Like I’m his perfect little angel again, willing to do anything and everything to keep him in good spirits and to retain the admiration of the public.
He would probably die if he could see me right now.
My eyes spring open, interest weaving through my limbs. Jonas stands above me, muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, an expression of suspicion lining his gaze.
I blink up at him, an idea forming like a lead balloon in my mind.
A bad idea, I’m sure. But what do I have to lose?
“What if we didn’t have anything to clear up?”
Jonas shrugs, adjusting the corded bracelet on his wrist. “In a perfect world, I suppose—”
“No,” I interject, my eyelids drooping as I try to sit forward. “What if we just… told everyone we’re dating?”
The last word has barely escaped my lips before all I see is black.
7
“Not a bloody soul leaves this establishment until you’ve searched everyone. Got it?”