ogles him.
“That’s Hayes Rivers,” the woman on my right says. Cass and I both turn to face her, surprised by her interjection.
“Heir to Kingdom,” she says when neither of us respond.
“I knew it. He looks like a king. Which kingdom?” I ask. I’m already imagining myself in a ball gown, crown on my head walking down some long, red-carpeted aisle where he’s waiting at the end.
“No, not a kingdom.” And just like that, she kills my dream. “Kingdom is the name of his family’s business. He inherited all the money when he turned twenty-five. And now he’s the new Rivers king,” she says.
“How old is he now?” I ask, my curiosity overtaking my normal abhorrence for gossip.
“He must be thirty … he’s one of the richest men in the freaking world,” she exclaims.
“Really? Why’s he here?”
“His grandmother is friends with the groom,” our little canary says.
“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of him. His return to Houston is all anyone’s talking about,” she says and looks at both of us like we’re crazy.
“I don’t live in Houston,” I say.
“Well, I heard …” Her eyes dart around as if checking for spies and then she leans into us. “Apparently, he had a fight with his ex. And it got physical,” she grimaces. But her eyes are twinkling. “I’m not one to gossip …” she says and Cass and I exchange a yeah, right look.
“But, she was all over the place wearing sunglasses. No one saw her, mind you, and she never said, but it was obvious he roughed her up,” she says.
My lawyer hat comes on and my eyes slide away from the delicious man to her. I make sure there’s no warmth in them and her silly, careless smile falters.
“That’s actually the exact opposite of obvious,” I say dismissively.
“Only if you’re blind. I mean, yeah, he’s nice to look at, but he looks so angry, don’t you think?”
I glance at him, and just then, like he knows what she said, his jaw clenches.
“Well, if people were talking about me like this, I might be angry, too,” I say and Cass pinches me.
“Well, if you think you know better, you can ignore me. But don’t say you weren’t warned,” she says and turns back to the victim on her other side.
As if I need any warning. I can smell a violent man the minute he enters the room. I grew up with them under the same roof. I watched them do more damage than any of the natural disasters that were a way of life for us in the Mississippi Delta.
I lean toward Cass.
“He’s staying on our floor,” I whisper. I can’t take my eyes off him. My whole body is tingling just from looking at him.
“Thank you, God,” I say, pressing my hands together in gratitude.
Cass laughs. “I mean, he does clean up nicely, but he looks like he’d be more comfortable in a boxing ring than on a dance floor,” she says.
“Yes, exactly,” I practically purr before I take another sip of my gin and tonic. My thighs clench when I think about how rough things could get.
“His nose doesn’t look like it’s been broken, though,” she muses.
“No one’s perfect,” I joke and take a final swig of my drink.
“Enjoy. My fantasy Italian fling is more in the style of Jude Law in the Talented Mr. Ripley. He looks like he could eat Jude Law in a single bite.”
“Or me,” I drawl with a wink and stand up. I run my hands down my dress.
Cass grabs my arm and yanks me back down in my seat. “Where in the world are you going? You are not going to approach him,” she says as if scandalized.
I glance over at her and grin, because I am so going to approach him.
“You never approach anyone. You’re still getting over Nigel. Who are you?” she asks, green eyes wide with surprise.
“I’m Confidence Ryan, and I’m about to go climb my very own Mt. Olympus,” I say with a suggestive waggle of my eyebrows.
“Are you drunk?” she asks when I start to stand up again.
“Yes, but so what?” I say.
“You’ll regret it in the morning,” she frets.
“Maybe …” I shrug.
“This isn’t you.” She peers up at me.
“Again, so what?” I shrug off her questions. “I’m in Italy. I’m single. And I think that if I’m ready to walk over and put my ass on a table for another man to make a meal of me, then I might be over Nigel,” I say.
“True facts,”