Rule's Obsession (The House of Rule 1)

Angie couldn't keep her confusion from coming through. "Huh?"

"You look like the devil's daughter and yet you're sexy as fuck. Absolutely inappropriate for a man like me."

"Right." Angie drew out the word on a breath, a tiny curl of both excitement and disappointment coiling in her belly. "I admit I'm a little out of my element here." She sucked in a breath. "I don't know what the hell you want, I don't even know your last name, but I'm pretty damn sure you're insulting me."

"I don't mean to be insulting." He paused a moment, contemplating her. "We're from two different worlds--"

"Yeah, and I think we need to keep it that way," Angie answered shortly.

He continued as if he'd never been interrupted, "It would be totally believable that I'd be unable to resist you." His eyes ran over her once again and when they rose to hers, she saw a warning reflected there. "Totally false, but nonetheless, believable." He pushed away from where he stood and took the five steps that separated them, holding out his hand.

Very carefully, Angie put her hand in his and her palm was promptly enclosed within a firm, sinewy handshake. "Damian Rule."

Angie licked her lips as both trepidation and excitement rushed down her spine. "Angie Ross."

"Nice to formally meet you, sweetheart. Can you spare me some time? There's a restaurant down the road and I promise I won't keep you out long."

Angie absolutely knew she should decline; nothing good could come from a meeting between them. He was insulting, antagonistic, and far too appealing for his own good. But the reason that she knew she was going to agree was simple. She was curious. She was dying to know what the hell he wanted.

She shrugged her shoulders and named the closest restaurant with an attached bar that she figured he'd appreciate.

"Yeah, that's the one," he agreed to her choice.

She pulled her hand from his. "I'll meet you there."

****

Damian snagged a booth in the corner and held himself rigidly as he waited for Goth girl to arrive. She came in five minutes behind him, and although courtesy dictated that he stand at her entrance, his very noticeable physical reaction to her wouldn't allow him to move from his seat.

It was a knee-jerk reaction that he was going to have to get a handle on; surely time spent with her would lessen her physical appeal. He certainly had no plans to do anything about it. He wasn't going to sleep with her. He. Was. Not. He needed a business arrangement with her, and he couldn't sully that with an exchange of bodily fluids, no matter how hard she made him.

She slid in the seat across from him and didn't mince words. "What's up?"

"I've already ordered a drink, what do you want?"

She glanced from him and looked at the male waiter who'd come to her side. Damian felt the immediate loss of connection when she broke eye contact. As she turned a megawatt smile on the new arrival, Damian experienced a hot rush of anger, even as he took a forceful hit to his equilibrium, his senses stunned by the beauty that transformed her face. He wanted that smile for himself.

"I'll have a Diet Coke, please," she addressed the other man in a tone so feminine and pleasant that Damian clenched his fists.

The waiter stared at her for a moment too long by Damian's estimation, and when the younger man turned away, Damian tried to get a grip as he studied her. "You don't think you should have something stronger?"

She raised a single, perfect eyebrow. "Will I need something stronger?"

"No. Just thought we could make this easier by sharing a drink."

"Anesthesia by alcohol? Not tonight, thanks. I have to drive and I haven't had much to eat today."

After the drinks were placed in front of them, Damian requested two menus. He wasn't hungry, but she very obviously was.

When they were alone again, he studied her stiffened shoulders and attempted to put her at ease by admitting to his earlier lie. "You didn't mess up my hair."

She studied the menu and didn't bother to glance up. "No shit. Why'd you say that in the first place?"

"It was a reaction. You looked ready to bolt and I thought it would keep you in place for a few seconds more."

Her eyes flew to his and she asked neutrally, "What do you want with me?"

He declined to answer her question yet. "I hope you order something. I don't like knowing I'm holding you up from your supper."

She held his gaze for a second and then glanced at the menu once more. The waiter appeared again and she ordered an appetizer.

"Is that all you want?" Damian asked. The small helping wouldn't be enough to keep a bird alive.

"Are you going to eat half?" she accused.