Waiters circled the room, holding trays that carried glasses of bubbly.
I stroked my fingers up Hazel’s back and rested them against her neck. She turned her head, lips parting then closing again. She stepped away from me, and the lack of contact was like a sucker punch.
“You OK?”
“Fine,” she said. “Just want to get this over with and get back to Dad. I don’t like leaving him alone.”
“He’s not alone,” I replied. “He’s got Piddles.”
“Mr. Piddlywump,” she corrected, tersely.
“And he’s got your sister.”
“Don’t even get me started on that.”
“What’s going on there?” I asked. “Anything I should know about? I spoke to the landlord, but he didn’t give me any details. Something about inappropriate behavior?” I hadn’t bothered pushing him on the issue. Kara had stolen from her ex-boyfriend, and I’d had the inclination she’d done something as devious this time around.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hazel said, stiffly.
“All right. You know, you can tell me any time you like.”
“Why? What’s the point?” Her gaze roved over the hall. “We’re not going to be friends after this.”
“Business partners can be friends,” I replied, evenly. “Unless there’s a reason you can’t be friends with me.”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“That’s a tall ask. It comes naturally to me,” I said.
“At least you admit it.”
“What are you looking for?” I asked. “My father?”
“Yes. The sooner we finish here, the sooner I can get back to Dad and check on him.”
“He’s fine.”
She flicked her long hair back and gave me nothing but beady-eyes and teeth. “You don’t get to tell me whether he’s fine or not, Woods.”
And we were back to enemies. Apparently, the sex had dispersed some of the tension between us and made it so we could have a conversation without her calling me “Woods” or practically chewing my face off with her eyes.
It was cute. Annoying.
Infuriating that I couldn’t make her understand I wasn’t out to get her. I was out to free myself, and she’d receive the same by consequence.
“We’ll have to stay for at least a half hour,” I said and placed my arm around her waist, relishing the sensation of those curves beneath my fingertips. “After that, we can get out of here.”
“Fine.” She was rigid against my side.
“Relax, Hazel.” I placed my nose against her temple, directing hot breaths down her cheek and to her ear. “You’d swear I wasn’t inside you yesterday afternoon. Remember, we’ve got to convince them.”
She relaxed, barely.
“There he is.” I nodded toward my father.
Mortimer had a new woman on his arm—not the assistant he was currently boinking but a redhead that was vaguely familiar. She was pretty, young, but she had the air of a shark that’d scented blood in the water.
Her gaze flickered over to us and a smile twisted her bright red lips. She whispered something to Mortimer, and they swung toward us, the crowd of rich fuckers parting around them.
“Looks like he’s found us first. Gird your loins,” I said.
Hazel snorted.
“You made it.” My father didn’t sound impressed, but who could tell? He’d had so much Botox at this point, it was a miracle he could still frown—his facial expression of choice.
“Shocking, I know,” I replied, easily.
“That’s good, son. I’ll admit, I didn’t think you could convince a woman to spend more than five minutes with you, but it seems you found… someone who’ll have you.” He sniffed.
“Hazel,” I said. “Her name is Hazel.”
“Of course. I was merely expressing how unlikely it was that you would ever have found a woman willing to marry you.” My father actually laughed—it was like the grim reaper himself had just had his toes tickled, a croaky, graveyard cackle that chilled the air.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” the redhead said, extending a hand. “Francesca Malone. I’m your father’s new attorney.”
“Taking the business-pleasure relationship to a new level, I see.” I accepted the handshake. “This is my fiancée, Hazel.”
Francesca cast the barest of nods at Haze, who immediately gritted her teeth.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Hazel asked. “You look super familiar.”
“Sorry, no.” Francesca’s reply was flat.
“Speaking of which,” Mortimer said. “I’d love to take you for a drink, dear. Care to join me?”
I did a double take. What kind of snake in the grass ploy was this? “You want to take Hazel for a drink?”
“Of course. She’s my soon-to-be daughter-in-law. I must get to know her.” He took Hazel by the arm and swept her off.
She gave one final terrified glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd heading for the bar in the corner.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“Problem?” Francesca asked.
“Anything involving my father soon becomes a problem. You should know that, as Mortimer’s legal representation.”
Francesca tittered like a bird on crack. “Oh, I’m fairly new. Maybe I should pick your brain for some inside information on how to handle him.”
“You don’t handle him,” I replied. “You bear it.”
“Still.” Francesca placed a hand on my arm, her fingers tipped in long, crimson nails. “I would love to walk and talk. I’d feel more at ease.”
As if putting her at ease was my motivation for being here. Still, it would give me a chance to find Hazel and ensure she hadn’t been lowered into a vat of boiling oil.
I walked in the direction of the bar, my new woman-shaped barnacle strutting like she’d just won a beauty contest.
“You know, your father is very excited for you to meet with the board,” Francesca said, breathily. “I’m sure you’re looking forward to it too. Finally taking your rightful place as heir to the Woods empire.”
“Better than pulling teeth,” I grunted.
God damnit, they weren’t at the bar. Where had he taken her? They’d been here a second ago… He’d taken her away so fast, neither of us had gotten the chance to launch a counter-offensive.
“Maybe they’re out on the terrace,” Francesca gestured to the open French doors and the gorgeous view of the city skyline.
Without giving it much thought, I
