Wicked Truths (Hunt Legacy Duology #2) - Jodi Ellen Malpas Page 0,56

further. ‘Stop it.’

His eyes droop.

‘Becker, I’m being serious.’

‘So am I.’

‘You’re being a juvenile.’

‘Well, I kind of am when it comes to love.’ He gives me an adorable smile. He knows what he’s doing, and I can’t really challenge that, because he’s right. ‘If I flash you my arse, will you forgive me?’ he asks on a hopeful smile.

I drop my eyes on a shake of my head. ‘I’ll forgive you if you promise to stop with the stupid games.’

‘Okay. I promise, I’m sorry. Old habits die hard, huh?’

I give him a look of utter disbelief. ‘You’ll die if you don’t pack it in, because I’ll bloody kill you.’

‘Yikes, that bad th . . .’ He fades off, and I glance back up to his adorably annoying face, finding he’s staring past me. And he looks worried. I turn to see what’s captured his attention.

And go stiff as a board.

Chapter 14

All of the blood rises to my head and reddens my face.

Alexa.

It’s a good job I’m trapped behind the glass, because I can’t guarantee my conduct if I wasn’t. Becker’s ex-screw is looking me up and down like I’m the most repulsive thing she’s ever seen, her enhanced lips pursed, her blond hair in a harsh up-do. I’m suddenly moving, the glass pane behind me pushing me around, and I soon find myself within a metre of her on the pavement, nothing between us.

‘Ah,’ she sings, super over-the-top. I know by her tone and the derisive look on her face that the next thing she says is going to be scathing. ‘It’s the skivvy.’ She flicks her silk scarf over her shoulder.

Be cool, Eleanor. Be cool.

‘Becker prefers to call me his girlfriend these days,’ I retort on a sweet smile.

She can’t hide her shock, though she tries her hardest. ‘Not for long. He’s never been able to resist these legs wrapped around his waist.’

Kill her. No, kill her with kindness. That’s what I should do. Don’t rise to it. Be refined and grown up. ‘Oh fuck off,’ I spit, throwing my bag onto my shoulder, just as something meets my back with a thud. I jolt forward, courtesy of Becker barrelling into me. He’s worried, and so he should be. I’ve endured enough brash women today.

‘Becker.’ Alexa eradicates all the spite from her voice and smiles all sweet and innocent at my boss. No, my boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend. ‘Lovely to see you.’

‘Yeah.’ He takes my elbow and pushes me on. I don’t protest. In fact, if I could click my fingers and magic us away, then I would. Then I wouldn’t have to tolerate the daggers currently stabbing into my back as we escape, and in a stupid fit of possessiveness, I slide my hand onto his arse, for the benefit of Alexa.

‘See you at Andelesea!’ she sings. I’m halfway to turning around, a little confused, when I remember . . .

The gala at Countryscape. ‘She’s going to be there?’ I blurt out, dropping his arse like it’s white hot, turning my stunned face up to him. His attention is centred firmly forward, his flawless profile and perfect nose in perfect view.

‘Sounds like it.’ He speaks on a slight mutter, keeping up his pace.

‘Great.’ I don’t trust Alexa. Not one little bit.

‘Princess?’ Becker’s concerned voice snatches me from my unpleasant thoughts, and I look up at him, seeing the concern in his eyes, too. ‘You okay?’

‘Fine. When’s the gala?’ I walk on in determined strides, planning every evil thing I will do to Alexa if she so much as sniffs Becker.

‘Saturday. You got my tux sorted, didn’t you?’ he asks, his footsteps close behind.

Shit, shit, shit. I need to get his tux dry-cleaned. ‘Yes, all done.’ I cringe, then proceed to mentally drop-kick myself across Bond Street. Not just because I’ve fucked up, but because she is going to be at the Andelesea Gala, and Becker’s going to be in a tux.

‘What are they showcasing at Andelesea, anyway?’ I ask. The most famous annual gala in the art world is renowned for boasting exclusive exhibits.

‘Heart of Hell.’

My steps falter. ‘The gigantic ruby?’

‘That’s the one.’

I’m not so irritated now, more envious. I’d love to see the elusive gem that’s been the talk of precious-stone experts for decades. It’s been kept from public view by its discoverer and private owner, J.P. Randel, since it was unearthed in 1939. Everyone was beginning to think it was a myth. ‘So it does exist?’ I ask, keeping my pace as Becker follows me, but then