Page 56 of Point of No Return

Crew stands silently ahead of us, hands at his back as the elevator opens and the starry night sky kisses us in greeting.

“I figured Tyson wasn’t really the type to care about racing,” I say as we step out into the cool night air. Skar’s hand finds mine, and he grabs two drinks from a nearby waiter, handing one off to me.

“Tyson didn’t give two shits about it until I invested.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks, and I find myself staring up at him just to name the emotion that crosses his face

Resentment, I note as my eyes pass over the crowd aroundus.

“Does he do that often?” I ask carefully.

He takes a long sip from his glass without looking at me. “I think there’s a reason my family owns more than half the continent.”

So yes then.

I’m close to asking him more when I hear a familiar voice from behind, and I stiffen: “Skar, I didn’t think you’d be bringing the old ball and chain with you.”

Jamison. And beside him, his trusty sidekick Thomson. I all but decided they were scumbags at our last meeting. Now they’re becoming a nuisance.

“Gentlemen,” I greet, but the sincerity gets caught in my throat.

Thomson grins, his eyes flickering over me again. “Heard about your nasty fall last time. My wife had an emergency at home so I had to leave, but I’m glad to see it’s healing nicely. Didn’t damage the goods,” he jokes as his gaze lands on my chest. More importantly, the semi-sheer material of my dress which just barely covers the line of my cleavage.

Anger makes a heavy appearance in my chest, hot and untamed.

“How is your wife, by the way?” my voice is cold, uninterested.

At the question, his eyes finally flicker upwards.

“Oh, she’s fine. Nothing too serious. She gets a bit irritable when I’m not home on time. You know how women get,” he shrugs, laughing as he chuckles at something Jamison comments under his breath.

I smirk, lazily swirling my drink around my glass. “If I were her, I’d be irritable that you came home at all.” Jamison chokes on his drink, and Thomson’s smile falls.

I drop Skar’s hand, noticing from the corner of my eye that Crew is watching the exchange. “Excuse me,” I dip my head in sarcastic farewell, not bothering to wait and see Skar’s reaction at my reply.

“Charlie,” I hear him call after a moment, and before I can even make it to the railing overlooking the race track, I’m biting my lip to keep the anger at bay. “Charlie,” he repeats, reaching for my elbow.

I whirl, ready to tell him and his remarks at my behavior topiss off, but I know better. Not here. Not in public. Not when I probably just cost him a business deal by telling off hisassholeassociates.

“I am not your show horse,” I hiss quietly. “I will not sit back and take that because your friends are drunk enough to dish it.” His brows furrow, confusion clear on his face. “I am not some plaything for you to show off. And married or not, I’m certainly not yours to offer up to help sweeten a deal.”

He stares at me, close enough now that as the blue of his eyes flicker over my face, I can see the anger evident in them. Anger that isn’t necessarily directed at me… “I would never ask you to be.”

That’s all you have to say?

I take a step closer to him, and from the corner of my eye, I see Crew step into view again- ready to intervene if need be. “I mean it. I will leave, and you can do this alone. I want no part of it.”

I hand Skar my empty glass, and without waiting for him to respond, I stroll back toward the railing to watch the race as the gun sounds, and the horses start off.

Propriety and duty be damned.

I’m tired of always playing someone else’s game.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Skar

This woman is positively going to be the death of me. Navigating every turn, I never know whether we’re one step closer to something cordial. Or if every step forward is ten steps back. One moment, we’re quarreling over something stupid. She’s mouthing off, and I’m fighting the temptation to do something we’ll both regret. The next, it’s guns blazing, and the teasing and the banter is something else entirely.

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