“Wow. You’re jaded to the point of numbness, aren’t you?”
“You’ve got me figured out, don’t you? Or do you? Shall we find out?”
It was clear this monolith would stand there and spar with her until she agreed to this “retrial” of his. If she was in her own domain or on neutral ground, or at least somewhere without a hundred witnesses blocking her only escape route, she would have sl
ammed him with something cutting and walked out as she’d done in Johara’s office.
But she couldn’t inflict on her friends the scene this gorgeous jerk would instigate if he didn’t have his way. She bet he knew she suffered from those scruples, was using the knowledge to corner her into participating in his game.
“You’re counting on my inability to risk spoiling Johara and Shaheen’s party, aren’t you?”
His blink was all innocence, and downright evil for it. “I thought you didn’t care what other people thought.”
“I don’t, not when it comes to how I choose to live my life. But I do care about what others think of my actions that directly impact them. And if I walk out now, you’ll tail me in the most obvious, disruptive way you can, generating curiosity and speculation, which would end up putting a damper on Johara and Shaheen’s party.” Her eyes narrowed as another thought hit her. “Now I am wondering if maybe they didn’t extend an invitation to you after all because they’ve been burned by your sabotage before.”
He pounced on that, took it where she couldn’t have anticipated. “So you’re considering changing your mind about whether I was invited? See? Maybe you’ll change your mind about everything else if you give me a chance.”
She blew out a breath in exasperation. “I only change my mind for the worse…or worst.”
“You’re one tiny bundle of nastiness, aren’t you?” His smile said he thought that the best thing to aspire to be.
She tossed her head, infusing her disadvantaged stature with all the belittling she could muster. “Again with the size references.”
“It was you who started using mine in derogatory terms. Then you moved on to my looks, then my character, then my history, and if there were more components to me, I bet you’d have pummeled through them, too.”
Refusing to rise to the bait, she turned around and stomped away.
He followed her. Keeping those famous three steps behind. With his footfalls being soundless, she could pinpoint his location only by the chuckles rumbling in the depths of his massive chest. When those ended, his overpowering presence took over, cocooning her all the way to the expansive reception area.
Absorbed in warding off his influence, she could barely register the ultraelegant surroundings or the dozens of chic people milling around. No one noticed her, as usual, but everyone’s gaze was drawn to the nonchalant predator behind her. Abhorring the thought of having everyone’s eyes on her by association once they realized he was following her, she continued walking where she hoped the least amount of spectators were around.
She stepped out onto the wraparound terrace that overlooked the now-shrouded-in-darkness Central Park, with Manhattan glittering like fiery jewels beyond its extensive domain. Stopping at the three-foot-high brushed stainless steel and Plexiglas railings, gazing out into the moonlit night, she shivered as September’s high-altitude wind hit her overheating body. But she preferred hypothermia to the burning speculation that being in Aram Nazaryan’s company would have provoked. Not that she’d managed to escape that totally. The few people who’d had the same idea of seeking privacy out here did their part in singeing her with their curiosity.
She hugged herself to ward off the discomfort of their interest more than the sting of the wind. He made it worse, drenching her in the dark spell of his voice.
“Can I offer you my jacket, or would I have my head bitten off again?”
Barely controlling a shudder, she pretended she was flipping her hair away. “Your head is still on your shoulders. Don’t push your luck if you want to keep it there.”
His lips pursed in contemplation as he watched her suppress another shudder. “You’re one of those independent pains who’d freeze to death before letting people pay them courtesies, aren’t you?”
“You’re one of those imposing pains who force people into the cold, then inflict their jackets on them and call their imposition courtesy, aren’t you?”
“I would have settled for remaining inside where it’s toasty. You’re the one who led me out here to freeze.”
“If you’re freezing, don’t go playing Superman and volunteering your jacket.”
That ever-hovering smile caught fire again. “How about we both mosey on round the corner? Since you’re the one who decided to hold my retrial thirty floors up and in the open, I at least motion to do it away from the draft.”
“You’re also one of those gigantic pains who love to marvel at the sound of their own cleverness, aren’t you?” She tossed the words back as she walked ahead to do as he’d suggested.
His answer felt like a wave of heat carrying on the whistling wind. “Just observing a meteorological fact.”
As he’d projected, the moment they turned the corner, the wind died down, leaving only comfortable coolness to contend with.
She turned to him at the railings. “Stop right there.” He halted at once, perplexity entering his gaze. “You’re in the perfect position to shield me from any draft. A good use at last for this superfluous breadth and bulk of yours.”
Amusement flooded back into his eyes, radiated hypnotic azure in the moonlight. “So you’re only averse to voluntary courtesy on my part, but using me as an unintentional barrier is okay with you.”