Page 67 of Ardently Yours

I reach out to touch Arden’s left shoulder. He turns his head to look steadily back into my eyes.

I was wrong, then. Arden isn’t out of control; he’s decided the consequences of his actions are a price he’s willing to pay in my defense.

“No,” I whisper. “Stop.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and I’ve never seen anyone portrayAre you fucking kidding me?!more clearly without saying a word.

Arden leans down and mutters something to Jamison that I can’t hear. Then he straightens and releases him with a flare of spread fingers. The man scrambles backward and away, knocking over a champagne fountain in the process. Glasses crash in a tinkling cascade behind him, and the crowd murmurs in response.

Jamison straightens, attempting to play off the situation like he wasn’t momentarily scared for his life.

I turn my attention to the little weasel and heave a bored-sounding sigh. “Ethan, I can't imagine any sober woman choosing to spend time with you, which I suspect you already know. Otherwise, why would you be so desperate to try to get the women you come on to drunk?” I indicate Arden like I’m a hostess on a game show. “Meanwhile, I’m standing next to everything you’re not. He’s funny, kind, and intelligent. People respect him, Ethan. I realize it’s probably hard for you to imagine what that feels like. He's got a better body, better hair, more power and, no doubt, a significantly bigger dick than you. In other words, you can fuck right the hell off.”

A burst of feminine laughter, quickly stifled, sounds behind me.

Color rises in Ethan’s face to compete with the lurid bruise forming on his cheekbone. He lifts a hand to smooth his blond hair back, then straightens his bow tie and opens his mouth. He closes it without saying anything.

Finally, wavering bravado apparently fueled by too much alcohol and too little common sense, he looks around at the crowd and lifts his chin. “What a nasty little viper you’ve found, McRae. Good luck with her. You’ll need it,” he says in a hoarse voice.

“Go home and enjoy your evening. It's the last one you’ll spend in this city,” Arden says.

Jamison turns and bolts from the ballroom.

Arden leans down to speak against my ear. “Mynasty little viper.”

A curl of warmth forms in my pelvis, and goose bumps rise on my skin. “What happened?”

He lifts his head. “I needed everyone here to understand how far I’d go to protect you.” he rasps.

I flex my hands in a grabby motion. “Gimme your hat. I need to check the color.”

One side of his mouth kicks up in a sardonic smile. “Not wearing a hat, Charlotte.”

“We’re speaking in metaphor,” I say.

He tips his chin. “And I metaphorically took my hat off tonight.”

I search his eyes. He looks back, his gaze shadowed by the white mask he wears. When the staff begin to clean up the mess of broken glass and champagne at our feet, he places a hand on my lower back and leads me to the other side of the ballroom. As we walk, someone approaches on my left and tucks a hand under my arm. Turning, I come face-to-face with Rose McRae.

She appears to be about to speak when I feel an oddly familiar tug on the fabric just above my knee.

Startled, I look down into the freckled face of a girl who can’t be more than Bronnie’s age.

She’s in a rose-pink dupioni silk gown, complete with a train and a diamond tiara perched in her auburn curls.

“Daddy says I can say ‘hello’ to Mr. McRae’s friend. Hello,” she says.

Startled to see a child here, I glance behind her. I sincerely hope she didn’t hear or see any of the altercation five minutes ago.

A man in a tuxedo stands less than two feet away. His hair is salt at the temples, and wire-framed glasses perch on his nose. Neither he, nor his child, wear a mask.

She’s flanked by two obvious bodyguards who stand within arm’s reach.

Arden has security here, but they’re on the perimeter and blending in.

Ignoring my disquiet for the child’s sake, I smile and crouch down to her level. “Hello. Are you having fun?”

She sighs. “No. But Daddy had to make an appearance, so here I am. He’d be sad without me.” Her r’s sound like w’s.

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