I didn’t argue. I was annoyed, but I didn’t argue. I didn’t take his arm this time. I just led the way out of the ballroom and outside the building. Away from the valet, because there was no way he was getting in his car and driving. I took him to the clubhouse instead. I figured he could sleep it off in there on one of the many large expensive leather sofas.
“Where are we headed? Are you taking me to the tenth hole to have your way with me?”
I knew he was joking. But it still got under my skin. “Not interested in having any way with you. Just saving Woods and Della the headache of their oldest acting like a moron in front of everyone.”
He chuckled. “God, you’re always so good. That’s sexy you know that? Your angelic face, killer body and perfect manners. It’s a combination that guys fantasize about—to get you to be wild. Taste some freedom.”
“I have plenty freedom,” I managed to say, although his description of me was a little startling.
“The untouchable Lila Kate Carter,” he continued. “So desirable and so freaking icy cold that you can’t get close.”
Icy cold? I wasn’t icy cold.
“Excuse me?”
I stopped at the steps leading up to the clubhouse and glared at him with disbelief.
“You,” he said running a finger under my chin, “are an expensive china doll that can only be seen and not touched. It’s so tempting, but you know that if you try, it will shatter. So you don’t break it. You stay back. Admire from a distance. Until you’ve had too much to drink and you give in a little. Just to be near her.”
I didn’t like this. Not any of it. I wasn’t a breakable doll. I was very strong. I wasn’t emotional or dramatic. I was tough. I was obedient. I was a rule follower. That didn’t make me cold. “Just because I don’t get drunk, party and sleep with every guy in town doesn’t make me cold,” I shot back at him.
“No, but you’ve never gotten close to any guy. That verges on icy.”
“I am not!” I raised my voice. That wasn’t fair.
“Really? Then how about this?” he said just before he wrapped his arm around my back and pulled me to him. The whiskey on his tongue was the first thing I tasted as he kissed me. He did it like he was trying to force me to react. Like he was pushing me for more. He did it like he didn’t mean it at all. His hand squeezed my waist painfully and nothing about this moment was sweet or romantic.
I placed both my hands on his chest and pushed him back. He staggered back easily then shook his head with a smile. “See. I told you.”
“Cruz!” Chanel’s voice screamed.
Both our heads turned to see her storming toward us in heels so high that it was impressive she was so agile in them and didn’t break her neck. I would fall over.
“Well, Chanel, you found me. Good,” he pointed his thumb at me. “This one isn’t gonna work out. So, you get to go into this clubhouse with me and show me those red panties you said you weren’t wearing.”
Chanel looked smug. Like she’d won a prize that we had been competing for.