Ozias furrowed his brow, losing that cool, charming look. Then he raised his brows in a silent question.
I didn’t elaborate. He didn’t deserve an explanation for my sisters’ whereabouts.
“They are not coming to dinner?”
I shook my head. “They couldn’t make it.”
My repeated reply had him scoffing. His annoyance was my triumph, and I intended to ride the satisfying high of irritating him for as long as I could.
I couldn’t linger in the victory for long. As I realized I was in a stare-off with this asshole, I felt a telltale sensation on the back of my neck. A sixth-sense awareness that never failed, always alerting me to someone watching me. It was a burn, a gnawing tingle I couldn’t ignore.
As I lifted my gaze and glanced to the side, I found piercing dark eyes watching my interaction with Ozias.
He was tall and handsome, with a few features similar to the man before me, but he carried an edge that screamed he was the dangerous one.
Elias. My fiancé. My future husband.
The son of the bastard who’d murdered my mother.
I stood straighter, knowing the second-hardest task of the night was upon me. I stared back at him, unflinching as he pushed off the wall from where he’d positioned himself in the corner of the room, sizing me up.
He approached with sure, steady steps. Something about the way he looked at me made my pulse jump and things deep inside me awaken.
The closer he came, the more I struggled to remember that he had a purpose—he was a means to an end.
Long legs quickly covered the distance between us. Each step he took pulled at the fabric covering his thick, firm, muscled legs. That suit fit him without a flaw, accentuating the sculpted planes of his chest and the sturdy strength of his muscular arms. Slow and steady, he stalked toward me like a predator homing in on his prey.
Prey? I would be no such conquest.
I couldn’t forget this was my enemy. Marrying him would get me in a position to destroy the asshole who’d created him.
But as he loomed before me, just tall enough that I had to tip my face up to meet his eyes, I realized he was already complicating what I intended him to be.
I found him more than attractive.
What the ever-loving fuck?
Gazing into his deep brown eyes, I resisted this growing fascination that sparked and sizzled. He remained unsmiling and neutral, almost bored, as he looked me over. Everywhere he dragged his lazy stare felt like a tangible caress.
As his attention lingered on my lips, something deep, warm, unwanted, and visceral awoke.
I fought to stay unaffected.
My reputation was critical to being calm and composed. I wouldn’t forget this, and I couldn’t ignore it.
But my heart raced, and a stupid part of me enjoyed being the object of his focus.
Of the idea that he couldwantto conquer me with that dark, predatory sensuality he emitted.
The corner of his lips twitched, almost like a smirk. He wanted me to react. This was all a game to him.
Fuck you, asshole.
Avra, you know better.
He was the enemy, nothing more. And damn him to hell if he thought he could incite something like desire to course through me.
This was what I deserved for going without sex for extended periods of time. Men like Elias Ozias could push past my barriers and fuck with me.