That catches my attention, finally slicing through my fury. She glowers at me, just as pissed off as I felt a second ago. “What?”
“Forget it.”
Just like that, she walks away. I follow her, and the people around us find something more interesting to focus on. I finally catch her and pull her close to me.
“What, Claire? Talk to me.”
“All night I’m your fucking fiancée until that woman shows up. Then I’m just ‘your guest’? You didn’t say shit to defend me.”
“Claire.”
“Then you get all possessive over some dude touching me and cause a scene.”
I stroke her face gently, but she refuses to look at me. Sighing, I press my forehead to hers. “She’s one of my investors. I have to play nice. I told her we were engaged as soon as she tried to make a move. I pushed her away. I wantyou, Claire.”
“Yeah, because I’m such a great out for you.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it. I know you can feel something between us.”
“No, I don’t know what you fucking mean. Let’s just go. You can have the ring back. I don’t want to play fiancée anymore.” She pouts with those sweet soft lips.
I give her a second to cool off, then try again. “I’m sorry for making you feel like this Claire. You’re right. I should have behaved better.”
“We both should have apparently,” she grumbles, then pushes her hair back. Finally, she meets my eyes. “What are we doing?” God she is incredibly sexy.
“I believe this is a conversation,” I say because I don’t have any clue what I’m doing with her.
“I’m serious.”
“I honestly don’t know, Claire. I—” I catch the same guy watching her eagerly, as if this talk will end with him swooping in on her. “You clearly know how interested I am in you.”
“Because we’re fake engaged.”
“Come on that's not fair. I’ve been interested in you since I stormed into your interview. You’re not so dense you haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah. You stare a lot.” She had the slightest smirk on her lips.
I feel some of the tension leave my body. Only to be replaced by the need to show her exactly how much I want her, how much I need her. “And I’ll do a whole lot more if given the chance.”
“Sounds like I shouldn’t get in the car with you, then. You’re dangerous,” she teases, tugging on my jacket.
“So, you’d rather leave with him?” I motion to the vulture who’s clearly not done with her yet.
She follows my gaze and snorts. “I don’t wanthishands on me again.”
I lean down to whisper in her ear. “What about mine?”
“Oh, you want to paint me too?” She chuckles.
“I want to pin you to a wall.” I run my nose across her neck. “At least once.”
“In front of everyone here?” she says breathlessly.
“No. At my house. Though I won’t promise to keep both hands on the wheel once we get in the car.”
I’m stupid for offering. The smart part of me wants her to say no. I have so many reasons not to do this, but my eyes have been glued to her since the moment I met her. The idea of any other woman pales in comparison to her. All the reasons I shouldn’t have her—the danger only adds to the heat.
I lead her outside with my hand low on her back. We get to the car quickly, without another word. I’m too focused on the fact that she hasn’t said no. I drive quickly, determined to get her back to my place as fast as humanly possible.