Burn My Hart (The Notorious Harts 2)

Something primal tips inside of me. I want to stalk to the table and lift Asha up, throw her over my shoulder and drag her back to my place, tie her to the bed and drive her wild in all the ways I know she loves best. I don’t. I throw the Scotch back then tap the glass, silently requesting a refill.

I didn’t come here tonight with a firm plan in mind. I thought it would be fun, a bit of a joke, but watching some other guy do his best to charm the pants off Asha is, it turns out, far from entertaining. What the hell is she thinking, dating someone like this? Don’t get me wrong, she’s a free agent. I’ve never had any interest in pushing commitment on her. The very idea makes my skin crawl. But if I’m going to give up the best sex I’ve ever had, it’s not going to be so she can go out with some kind of painfully trendy heir to a tyre factory fortune. I bet this guy has never even had to make his own bed. Asha will be ridiculously bored by him.

I have no choice but to make her see reason. I grin to myself as I stand, imagining all the ways I can torture her body into submission, and place my credit card on the bar as I prepare to slip out the side entrance. I can’t say why but I take one last look at their table at the exact moment Asha lifts her head. Perhaps there’s something in my movement that’s familiar or maybe it’s just a coincidence but she turns towards me and our eyes lock.

Surprise flexes her face and then there’s fury, her lips tightening as she glares at me.

Okay, she’s pissed off. I guess, seeing it from her side, I probably shouldn’t have come here. But, seriously, this guy is a waste of her time. No harm, no foul.

I’m not really surprised when she texts me an hour later.

WT actual F, Theo?

Okay. She’s still pissed off. I don’t want to go into this via text though so I don’t reply immediately. A moment later, my phone buzzes again.

I’m downstairs. Buzz me up.

I reread her message and then stride towards the front door of the penthouse, pressing the button quickly, even as I know it gives me only a few minutes to work out how to play this. Asha’s never been angry at me before. We don’t really get into any situations that would enable anger. There’s no emotion in what we’re doing, generally. So this is new for us. I have no idea how she reacts when she’s pissed off, nor how likely she is to be calmed down. This is a new side to her and even as I know I have to make this right, I am a little fascinated to see Asha in this frame of mind.

The night is warm, one of those sultry New York evenings that make it easy to remember that the city is built on a swamp. Somewhere between the hotel restaurant and my place she’s taken her jacket off and draped it over her arm so all I can think is how much I want to rip that damned camisole off her and erase the lingering hint of Angus’s pervy stare.

‘I’m so mad at you,’ she snaps as a preamble, dropping her handbag inside the door and crossing her arms over her chest.

So, she’s hot when she’s angry. Her lips are pouting, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkly. ‘Yeah?’

She continues to glare at me but a small frown crosses her lips. She’s not wearing lipstick, which is unusual for her. I don’t particularly want to think about that waste of space kissing it off her.

‘What the hell were you doing there?’

‘I wanted to see you on a date.’ I shake my head, dragging a hand through my hair. ‘I was curious.’

‘You had no business showing up—’

‘I know that.’ My admission momentarily silences her but actually she’s right. I crossed a line tonight and I’m surprised I did so. ‘I thought it would be funny.’

‘Funny?’

It’s the wrong thing to say. Her temper spikes and she shoots me a look that is pure venom.

‘What, were you jealous or something, Theo? Because we talked about this already.’

‘Jealous?’ I reject the idea fiercely. How can I be jealous of Asha dating someone when I have no interest in dating her?

‘It was just a drink,’ she reminds me witheringly, pushing past me into the kitchen.

‘He’s not right for you.’

She pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge and pours herself a glass. ‘You don’t know anything about him.’

‘I’ve known hundreds of Angus Fienes in my time, Asha. He’d never make you happy.’

‘You don’t know that.’ But I do and, what’s more, I see it in her eyes that she agrees with me. She won’t admit it now because she’s pissed off with me, but I know she knows I’m right.

I stride into the kitchen and catch her hands, lifting them to my chest. ‘You’d always be a trophy to him. You deserve to be with someone who sees you as a person, not just a name.’

She sucks in an indignant breath, her eyes flashing fire with mine. ‘I don’t even know where to begin with that. First of all, that’s one of the reasons I like Angus—there’s no way he’s into my money. He’s rich enough all on his own. I don’t think he gives a shit that I’m heir to the Sauvages fortune.’

‘Yeah, right.’