Page 2 of Declan

I look at her thoughtfully, ignoring my urge to touch her, knowing it would be a huge error on my part. “Have I offended you in some way?”

She snorts, the distinctly unladylike sound bringing a smile to my lips, but then she retorts, “What isn’t offensive about you?”

“My dashing good looks?” I reply playfully.

She snorts again, her lips twisting as she scans me up and down and back up again, a decidedly unimpressed expression on her face as she looks me in the eyes and says, “Average.”

I gasp and take a step back, a hand over my heart as I sputter, “Direct shot, Miss Munroe. Well done.”

She rolls her eyes, her arms coming up to cross over her chest defensively, but she says nothing, so I add, “Care to tell me what the fuck I ever did to earn such harsh criticism from you?”

“Pick something.”

“I don’t think you really know anything about me to pick,” I retort.

“I know all about your kind, Mr. Hughes,” she snaps, fire burning in her eyes. “You’re just another guy looking for a good time, willing to use and abuse anyone who gets in the way of your loose cannon ways.”

Okay, now I am offended.

But also intrigued.

I take a step toward her, then another and another as she attempts to keep space between us and fails once her back hits the wall. I place a hand up over her head and lean in, whispering near her ear, “Who hurt you?”

She tenses, her body shaking with what I’m certain is anger and her desire to knee me in the balls, but she doesn’t shy away. She looks directly into my eyes and spits out, “Not you.”

I lean in a bit more, until I’m sure she feels my breath on her cheek as I say, “I would never hurt you.”

“Uh huh,” she replies dryly. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I’m serious,” I say seriously. “I take care of what belongs to me.”

“I don’t belong to you,” she responds firmly, her gaze hard as she adds, “And I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time, and I don’t need you or anyone to do it for me.”

I open my mouth to retort, but she pushes against my chest hard enough to knock me back, and then she brushes by me, “If you’ll excuse me, I have people waiting on me.”

She doesn’t wait for me to acknowledge her parting words; instead, she takes off in the direction of our table, her gait hurried. She doesn’t look back, and I’m unsure how long I’ve been staring after her when I turn my gaze to the left to see her longtime manager, Jessica, smirking at me. I raise my brows innocently and lift my shoulder, and she shakes her head, her smirk intensifying.

I walk back to our table, returning to my seat where I turn my attention back to Jessica. I lift my chin at her, indicating she should come over, and she takes the hint easily, rising from her seat and walking the short distance between us to sit beside me. I smile at her and say charmingly, “Jessica. A pleasure to see you.”

She narrows her eyes at me and smacks my arm as she replies, “Don’t try me, Declan Hughes. I’m way too fucking old for that shit.”

Jessica is not even close to being old, but she’s been around long enough to not fall for anybody’s bullshit.

“I’m surprised to be seated with you tonight. Pleasantly so but surprised nonetheless,” I say with a passing glance across the table at her protégé who is outright ignoring me.

She gives me a quizzical look, glancing back to where I just looked away from and then back at me. “I saw your little interaction a bit ago. Don’t get any ideas. She’s not the type of girl that survives you, Declan.”

“Oh,” I ask passively, “and what kind of man am I?”

She levels me with a cool stare and snorts before she replies, “A good-time guy. A love ’em and leave ’em, use ’em up and set ’em free type of man.”

I frown. Her description of me isn’t technically wrong, but for some reason, it bothers me. I’ve been this way for most of my adult life, and frankly, it has always suited me. I don’t tell tales and fill people full of lies, so no harm, no foul. “So, you’re saying I’m not good enough for her?”

Jessica sighs, snagging my bourbon from my hand and taking a sip before handing it back to me. “You could be.”

I raise my brows in surprise because I fully expected her to say I am not, nor could I ever be. “Really?”

She smiles and nods. “If you put your mind to it, absolutely. But that’s an astronomical choice and a permanent one.”

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