Crown of Lies

Page 34

“A knack for women who can’t stand the opposite sex. A way of convincing them to give up control and relax for once.”

Holy shit.

I rarely swore but holy shit, shit, shit.

This guy...there were no words for his arrogance.

Dad glanced at his untouched whiskey. “I admit Elle doesn’t seem to like the prospects I put in front of her.” His face fell. “I only want her to be happy. To have someone to shoulder the burden of her company with. To laugh occasionally with.” His voice softened with sadness. “She hasn’t laughed in so long. I’m worried about her.”

If I weren’t so angry, I would’ve suffocated under a fresh wave of guilt. I moved forward a step, breaking my cover, swirling with mixed emotions.

However, Mr. Everett ensured I’d never feel guilt again as he said, “Introduce me to your daughter, Mr. Charlston, and I promise you I’ll make her—”

“Make me do what?” I stomped in my heels, crossing my arms. My heart whirled wild while my breathing threatened to show how annoyed and hurt I was.

I glowered at both men.

My father shrunk, knowing he’d screwed up. But the stranger merely pinned me with piercing eyes and sent a chill down my spine.

He looked arctic and unreadable.

He smelled expensive and impenetrable.

He sounded powerful and untouchable.

My worst nightmare wrapped in perfection.

Tearing my gaze away, I hugged my anger and spat, “You sit here planning my future like you have control over me. What? You think you can make me fall in love with you? Get on my knees for you? Do whatever you tell me to, oh master?” I snorted. “The flat-out disgusting nerve of you!”

Mr. Everett rubbed his bottom lip where a droplet of liquor glistened. “If you give me time, I’ll prove to you I can make you do all those things...and more.”

I spluttered in outright shock. “Excuse me?”

My father stood up, putting himself between me and damn Mr. Everett. “I don’t think that’s quite appropriate conversation for the first introduction, sir.”

“Seriously?” I eyed my father as if he was a stranger, too. “When is that sort of talk ever appropriate? When he’s got me cuffed to a damn bed and making me cook him dinner? God, Dad.” I threw up my hands, my skin flushing with indignation beneath my black dress. “Wow. Just wow. Both of you.”

Backing away, I held up my finger when Dad tried to reason with me. “Nope, not going to hear it.” I spun on my heel then looked over my shoulder, doing my best to ignore Mr. Everett and the way his gaze slipped over me, lingering on my breasts before latching onto my mouth. “Oh, and, Dad, once you’ve finished trying to be the world’s worst matchmaker, your dinner is on the table.”

I stormed off, unable to make the blazing exit I wanted as a crowd of people interrupted my flow, teetering slowly with their arms full of drinks, chatting about things I couldn’t care less about.

I wanted out of there.

Something warm and firm tapped me on the shoulder, somehow finding bare flesh beneath the scarf wrapped around me. “Before you leave...”

My heart relocated into my mouth as I whirled around, coming face to face with Mr. Everett.

Up close he was even more stunning.

Damn him.

Curse him.

His dark eyes were calculating and intelligent, his lips perfectly formed with the barest hint of five o’clock shadow over his jaw and down his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed while the columns of muscle flowing from his neck to his chest, just visible beneath an open-necked silk gray shirt, upset me in ways I didn’t understand.

He was pure, one-hundred percent male, and he watched me as if I was a woman who’d already sacrificed herself on his ego temple, and he was about to dine on her soul.

I crossed my arms to hold my insides together, trying to prevent the leaping gazelle my heart had morphed into from splattering at his feet. “What? What do you want?”

His eyes darkened to molasses. “I want—”

Dad sidled over, caution and worry etching his wrinkled kind face. “Now, Elle. Let me introduce you two properly.”

“I think Mr. Everett has done all the introducing I need to hear.” I tilted my head. “Isn’t that right?”

Mr. Everett smiled ever so slightly, looking more sinner than gentleman. “I’ve only just started, Ms. Charlston.”

Dad raised his arm, waving it a little in surrender as my heels ground into the marble, preparing to go to war. “Now, now.” Coming to my side, he patted my forearm. “I apologize for talking about you. But you’ve got the wrong idea. This is—”

“Mr. Everett. I know.” I glowered. “I just learned, thanks to you, how he thinks he can turn me into a simpering idiot all because he’s deemed me interesting enough to meet.” I leaned toward Mr. Everett, not caring I gave him a shot down my cleavage or the way he sniffed at my orchid perfume. “For your information, asshole, I don’t like men because of this exact reason. You’re either a mamma’s boy or think you rule the world.” I pointed a finger in his face. “You’ll never rule me, so you might as well stop whatever little game you’re playing with my father and fuck off.”

“Elle!” My father gasped. “What the hell, Bell Button?”

And he used Bell Button.

Of course, he did.

My life was officially over. Not only had he tried to set me up with this sexual deviant in the middle of a cigar-clouded gin bar, but now, he gave away childhood nicknames as if they meant nothing.

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