NATHAN JANG
I hope they have fruit. I'm really craving cherries.
What the hell was that about? Was she flirting?
Damn. I couldn't stop thinking about Vanessa's mouth. Or the way she looked. The way she acted. I wanted to kiss her. No, I wanted to do a lot more than kiss her.
It's not like we didn't have attraction. Lust was easy. Love was impossible. Wasn't it? Vanessa had confessed to me after we signed our marital contract. I didn't encourage her affection because I didn't want to set unrealistic expectations. In public, everything we did was for show. In private, we agreed not to interfere in each other's lives.
Except tonight, I broke my own rules because Vanessa looked like the kind of sin I'd gladly go to hell for.
"Nathan."
I looked down at Fiona. I'd known her since we were children. Then, the Grands still had money and status. I felt sorry for her because the life she'd known had been cruelly snatched away. It wasn't her fault that her father committed fraud. She'd been banished to France to escape the fallout. Now that she was back, I wanted to help her rebuild her life.
"You don't feel well?" I asked.
"I'd like to go rest."
I patted her hand. "Okay. Let's go."
As I opened the door and ushered her through it, I thought about the disappointment in Vanessa's eyes and the sadness in her voice when she said, "I'll fulfill my duties as your wife. But I won't love you."
Fiona stumbled and I automatically grasped her shoulders to keep her from falling. She leaned against me, her blue eyes shining when she said, "Thank you."
I felt my heart drop to my stomach. Vanessa was right. Fiona felt like she had the right to my affection. You're so stupid, Nathan. I had been disrespectful of my fiance's feelings since Fiona returned two months ago. No, even before then.
"Can you walk?" I asked. I wanted to let her go, but she was leaning hard into my side.
"I can't," she said. "I think I twisted my ankle." Her gaze snagged on someone and she gasped. "Oh, my God. Is that Devon Thorne?"
I looked up and saw the Money God of Ash City striding across the ballroom followed by two bodyguards.
And he was headed right for Vanessa.
***|***|***
VANESSA BELMONT
"You bitch. You threw me to the wolves." Ollie hunkered next to me. "I should push you into that chocolate fountain, but you'd enjoy it too much."
"I would." I laughed. "How was Leonardo de Asshole?"
"Asshole-y as ever." Ollie plucked a petit four from the dessert table and popped it into his mouth. "Guess who's here? Devon Thorne. He's back from abroad. Can you believe it? The Dark Lord himself, Neenie. If he liked men, I would be on him like hair spray on a drag queen's bouffant."
"You seriously call him the Dark Lord?"
"The entire universe calls him that. You don't mess with Devon Thorne. He can make generations of your family disappear from Ash City. If you looked up power in the dictionary, his picture would be there. His expression is so cold, it could freeze you solid."
"Wow. Exaggerate much?"
Ollie held up three fingers. "I swear, my mother's great-aunt's cousin's grandmother saw it happen once."
"Is he really that awful?" asked a quivering female voice.
Ollie and I turned. Behind us, holding a glass of champagne that trembled in her pale hand, was a petite woman with red hair and moss-green eyes. She looked like a garden fairy come to life.
"He's been abroad for five years," said Ollie in a low voice. "Rumor has it that any time a woman approached him, he threatened to throw her into the ocean and feed the fishes."
"H-he doesn't like women?" Her big green eyes widened. She clutched the champagne glass so hard, I thought it might crack from the pressure.
"He doesn't like anybody," said Ollie. He took a longer look at our new friend. "Aren't you Annabeth Saint? Your mother founded Rosefield Jewels! Oh my God. You know Mei Ling, don't you?" Ollie grabbed my arm and squeezed. "Mei Ling is a jewelry design genius. Have you seen the art pieces she produces? I tried to get the Firefly at Sunset necklace for my mother, but it sold to some anonymous collector."
"I'm afraid Miss Ling isn't ready to make her real identity public." Annabeth put down the champagne glass, and then looked at me. "Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Belmont."
"Thank you."
"Call her Vanessa," said Ollie. "I'm Oliver."
"Vanessa. Oliver. Please call me Annabeth."
Ollie reached for another petit four and gasped. "Devon the Devil is headed right for us!"
Annabeth yelped, grabbed the long, glittering skirt of her haute couture dress, and ran away.
Oliver and I stared as she disappeared into the crowd.
"Did we say something wrong?" asked Ollie.
"Probably," I answered.
"Excuse me."
Ollie and I turned and looked up, up, up into the cold, expressionless, most gorgeous male face ever produced by the creator deities. We both gulped.
"Mr. Thorne," said Ollie, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Mister Thorne. How many we help you?"
"What are you, the salesgirl at the mall?" I whispered out of the corner of my mouth.
"Shut up or die," Ollie whispered back.
"The young lady you were speaking to a moment ago," said Mr. Thorne in a deep, resonant voice. "Where did she go?"
Ollie and I pointed in the direction where Annabeth Saint had fled. Devon Thorne nodded his thanks and strode away, his two bodyguards following closely.
After the Money God of Ash City was out of range, Ollie and I both released relieved breaths.
"He is so hot," said Ollie.
"The hottest," I replied.
"You're not allowed to think about other men," said Nathan, curling his arm around my shoulders.
"Why are you here?" I asked, completely, totally—okay not-at-all—ignoring the flutters in my stomach. Knock it off, body. We're not here to have fun.
"It's our engagement party, remember? Dinner will be served soon."
"Where's your sweet wittle Fiona?"
"Malone took her to the dining area. She's resting." Nathan shook his head. "Neenie, she's not my sweet wittle Fiona."
"Whatever." I pushed his arm off my shoulder. "Are you really going to exchange rings with me? For money?"
"For family interests," replied Nathan. "Which you've not only agreed to, but signed the paperwork."
That was when I thought I could build a future with you. I grabbed a glass of wine and downed half of it.
"You two should have a chat." Ollie wiggled his fingers as a good-bye.
"Ollie!" I sent him a death glare, but his mischievous gaze said payback is a bitch, and then he freaking left me.
Damn it.