“What? Get off me!” one of them says, trying to shrug out of his hand. He holds tightly without moving, not even seeming to notice.
“Where these idiots bothering you?” he asks me, turning his eyes to meet mine.
For a moment I feel absolutely frozen. He’s so gorgeous – I feel like I could fall into his deep, dark eyes and drown. But I have to get myself together. Between the fear from a moment ago, the embarrassment, and now the way he has my heart pounding just by looking at me, I feel like I’m coming apart. “Yes,” I manage to say at last, after what feels like a stupidly long pause.
“I thought as much,” he says, letting go of one of them to raise a hand in the air. He looks at someone behind me and makes a beckoning gesture.
“What’s the matter? We were just having a bit of fun,” the first one asks, scoffing. “Man, people have no sense of humor these days.”
“Yeah, and she was asking for it,” the second one says, still squirming under the man’s strong grip. “Seriously, let me go. My Dad’s not going to be happy if he hears about you trying to embarrass me.”
“Embarrass you?” My savior turns his dark gaze upon the boy, glowering down at him from his significantly taller height. “Oh, I’m not trying to embarrass you. I’m having you thrown out so that none of the people here have to listen to your disgusting little jokes.”
The two of them try to protest, even try to pretend that they don’t care, but it’s no use. A pair of men in dark suits, even broader and taller than the man who came to rescue me, appear behind him. They have earpieces in their ears and tattoos on their knuckles, and they summarily grasp both of the boys by their collars and begin to drag them away.
“Wait,” the first one says, looking desperately. “Don’t you know – I’m Pierre Francoud’s son!”
There’s a collective gasp from the people around us who have stopped to watch, and even my protector turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
So much for Prince Charming. Money always talks – I should have known.
Maybe I can get away from here and go outside before these two boys make it even more embarrassing for me by managing to get away scot-free.
Chapter Four
Finn
I can hardly believe what I’m hearing.
Does this little twerp actually believe that his family name would excuse any kind of behavior he wants to engage in?
I step closer to him, making sure that his full attention is on me. I see the look on his face he thinks I’m about to grovel and beg for forgiveness, offer him a free drink and tell him not to let this get back to his father.
And he’s oh, so deliciously wrong.
“I’m sorry,” I say, getting right up into his face. “That must be terrible for him. Do give my condolences to your father when he picks you up – from outside of this gallery.”
“What?” he splutters. “You can’t talk to me like…”
“You can’t talk to her the way you did,” I say. “And since you did, I can talk to you however I like. Get them out of here, please.” I wait to catch the security guards’ eyes and make sure they understand and then turn back to check that she’s alright –
Only to find that she’s gone.
I swear under my breath and push forwards, past the small group of people who gathered to observe what was happening. Most of the guests of the event don’t seem to have noticed, which is a good thing – but it also means that most of them are still milling around, making it hard for me to get past the table and look for her.
Thankfully, I see her as soon as I break past the thin layer of the crowd that had circled around us, she’s walking forward, her way just as hindered by the people standing around talking as mine has been. That gives me the chance to catch up with her, pushing my way forward quickly and moving to stand in front of her rather than grabbing her by the arm. I don’t want to spook her, not after what just happened she must still be on edge.
“Hi,” I say. “I’m sorry about that. Some kids just aren’t brought up with manners. They’re gone, now.”
“You kicked them out?” she asks, glancing towards the doors for confirmation. Above the heads of the crowd and behind an impressive sculpture of a dog, it’s just possible to make out the two of them being shoved out of the event by the security team.
“Of course,” I say, taken aback for a moment. Did she really think that I would be swayed by their money? I regroup for a moment, then gesture off to the side of the gallery. “Why don’t we step onto the terrace? You might need some fresh air.”