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From Enemy's Daughter to Expectant Bride (The Billionaires of Blackcastle 1)

Page 21

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After her heart zoomed at the touch of his gaze, it slowed down to a wary rhythm at the emptiness she saw there. Hoping to reestablish the connection meeting his partner and her father had interrupted, she forced a smile only he would understand on her lips.

I

t faltered when he continued to cast that blank gaze at her. It froze along with her blood as the beautiful redhead put her arm around him and they turned and walked out of the ballroom.

Tremors invading her every muscle, her mind tripped over rationalizations. He must be trying to get rid of that woman without making a scene. When he did, he’d come back. Or not. He expected she’d follow him out. That must have been what he’d been telling her with that vacant stare.

She turned to her father. “See you tomorrow, okay?”

Before he could say anything, she rushed away.

Once outside the ballroom, she felt as if a thundercloud had descended. Then she saw the source of the darkness.

Richard Graves was leaning a formidable shoulder against the gold-paneled wall, watching people like a bored predator deciding which one he’d pick off first, nursing what looked like a straight whiskey. At the sight of her, he lazily unfolded to his full height, making her feel as if the world had shrunk.

Collecting herself, she nodded. “Mr. Graves.”

“Looking for Rafael?”

Acutely uncomfortable under his laser gaze, but feeling trapped since she didn’t know where to look, she said, “I’ll wait until he comes back.”

“You’ll wait till morning, then. That’s the soonest I see him being done with that redheaded ballistic missile.”

Her heart boomed painfully. It wasn’t what he’d said, she told herself. It was Graves himself. She didn’t get intimidated easily, but this man—she bet he scared monsters. And for some reason, he’d decided he didn’t think much of her.

Not that she cared. She only cared about Rafael’s opinion.

“You’re mistaken, Mr. Graves. Rafael is...” She couldn’t go on. Her throat closed under his pitiless stare and the growing uncertainty and confusion. What was Rafael doing?

“Rafael is with—or rather in—that redhead now.” He had the look of someone taking intense pleasure from pouring acid in an infected wound. “Seems he promised you an intensive exercise in his bed, but had a change of plans. Not to mention a huge upgrade in exercise-mat quality. Me, alas, I don’t have anything better to do for the night. I might be persuaded to accommodate you in his stead.”

She bit her lip to stop it from trembling at his barrage. “Why are you being so...vicious?”

He shrugged. “I’m actually being kind. I’m saving you further embarrassment—if you feel such a thing—and am offering you an alternative, so your night’s...efforts aren’t a total waste.”

Dazed, unable to believe someone would talk to her so offensively, she choked, “I don’t know why you disliked me on sight...”

“Instant judgments. And executions. Just two of my many shining qualities.”

Corrosive heat surged behind her eyes as she searched his caustic stare. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“That Rafael took that redhead to his quarters and is probably having sex with her as we speak? Yes.”

She tore her gaze away, heart flailing as for one last time she silently begged Rafael to come back, prove this cruel man wrong.

But Rafael wouldn’t come back.

And every idealistic rationalization was knocked down, replaced with the sordid truth.

Rafael had probably come out to the ball with her because he wanted to see if there was someone who’d appeal to him more before he wasted the night on her. And he had found a more beautiful woman, no doubt one who wouldn’t dream of asking him to defer his pleasure. And he’d just forgotten about her. He hadn’t even deemed her worth another word or glance, as if those hours of magic hadn’t happened.

But it hadn’t been magic. Not between them. The magic had been all his. A sorcerer casting his dark spells on a willing victim, entertaining himself while he pulled the strings of hundreds of others by remote control.

Graves knocked back the rest of his whiskey before leveling harsh eyes on her. “You’re better off. Rafael is way out of your league.”

She stared at this man of granite who hacked at her with such pitilessness. But what hurt most was that he was right. About everything.

He rolled his shoulders back, seeming to grow even more menacing as he tossed her a suggestive glance. “I’m even more out of your league, but if you’re interested...”



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