Page 16 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire
“He’s not worth it,” she said softly, shaking her head. We were attracting an audience.
I turned my attention back to her ex.
“Apologize,” I said. He mumbled something unintelligible. “We didn’t hear you. Apologize to the lady.” His face reddened, but he wanted to appear tougher than he was. I could see from the expression in his eyes he was thinking of saying something stupid, so I offered him one more chance. “Last warning. Then I’m throwing a punch and scarring that pretty face.”
That got him reconsidering his words.
“Désolé,” he muttered in French, his eyes flashing with hate.
“We didn’thearyou,” I said, squeezing his throat just a bit tighter. This guy would never fucking model again. I’d ensure it. My smile contained a dark threat, and I let him see all of it.
“Désolé!” This time, he screamed the word. I eased my grip. “I’m sorry, okay,” he whimpered. He shot a fearful look in my direction, his face reddening with panic.
“Is his apology sufficient?” I asked Odette. I needed her to understand that this would be the last time he’d ever come near her, if I had any say in the matter.
“Yes, it’s sufficient.” Odette’s fingers tightened around my bicep. “Come on, Mr. Ashford. Dance with me.”
Jesus Christ. Did she just call me Mr. Ashford?
I let go of the creep and took a step back, running a hand over my jaw. Fuck, when was the last time I lost my head like this?
The guy disappeared before I could say “beat it.” I turned my attention back to Odette. She gave me a wide smile and something in my gut kicked at the sight of it. She was beautiful, but when she smiled she was stunning.
“Well, Mr. Ashford.” She beamed, taking my hand into hers. My other hand came around her and rested on the small of her back, pulling her closer to me. “Don’t tell me you can’t stand rude and cranky people.”
“Touché,” I acknowledged. “I should apologize for that.”
Her glimmering eyes found mine and her grin grew wider. “You should, Mr. Ashford.”
“Please, call me Byron.”
She smiled. “Only after you apologize.”
“Dr. Swan—”
“Nope.” She cut me off, rolling her eyes. “Dr. Swan is my father. I’m Odette. Friends call me Maddy.”
“Why do they call you Maddy?”
“It’s short for Madeline. My middle name.”
I huffed. “Then I’ll call you Madeline.”
Her brows scrunched. “Why not Maddy?”
I leaned closer to her, the scent of apples filling my lungs. “Because I’m not your friend. I’m going to be the man to fuck your brains out and make you forget all about your ex and this ménage à trois you think you want.”
Her sharp inhale filled the space between us. Her body was flush with mine, pressing into me. I could tell by the color rising in her cheeks and the way she swallowed deeply that she felt this attraction too. Her shimmering eyes found mine, the gold in them more pronounced.
“Are you sure you're up to the task, Mr. Ashford?” The challenge shone in her eyes and in the way she tipped her kissable chin. I bet she did the same when she was being stubborn.
Our gazes locked. Attraction danced. I couldn’t have been the first man to fall so spectacularly at her feet. She was gorgeous, with a face and body that could tempt the devil himself. No woman had ever succeeded in spiking my heart rate so completely, let alone so quickly. Until this med student walked through the door, that was.
“Byron,” I corrected her. “I don’t want to hear you screaming Mr. Ashford later on. That’s my father.”
Her cheeks turned crimson and her mouth parted. I had to exercise all my self-control not to smash my mouth against hers. I was already tempted to just drag her out of here and have her to myself for the rest of the night.
“I heard your conversation with your sister,” I drawled. “If you want to tick a ménage à trois off your bucket list, I’ll deliver it. But on one condition only.”
