15
Isobel
“Uh-oh. I think someone’s in big trouble,” Elena whispered into my ear, teasing.
The music was so loud I couldn’t grasp what she was saying , but when she pointed behind me and I turned around to check what she was mumbling about, I was surprised to find Hugo looking like he was Death’s messenger.
Frowning, I stared at him, hoping he hadn’t come here to break up our party. Because if he had, well, I wouldn’t like that very much.
Touching Elena’s shoulder to get her attention, I mouthed and pointed my thumb t owards her cousin’s direction, expecting she’d get the hint that I was going over to say hi. She shooed me away, grinning teasingly before she focused her attention to her other friends—all of whom consisted of men, by the way; a tidbit she had forgotten to mention.
Weaving my way towards Hugo , past the white curtains and a few private parties, I exhaled an exasperated sigh when the man didn’t even move a muscle to meet me halfway. He simply waited, brooding sexily while those hypnotizing eyes of his didn’t miss a beat in following me. Then, once I reached him, he kept on his mask of cool indifference without saying a word.
Hell, is everything okay?
“Is there an emergency?” I asked , almost yelling at him.
When he kept ignoring me, my patience immediately deteriorated. “All right. Well it was odd seeing you here… but I have to get back to my party. Hope you have a blast playing mannequin.” I was being sarcastic, however I couldn’t help it. He was being insufferable.
“Outside,” he bit out. “We need to talk.”
“Good to know your tongue is still intact.” I folded my arms underneath my breasts, readying to fight back. As far as I was concerned, I hadn’t done anything wrong. Thus, for him to come here acting like a complete arse was completely unjustified.
Strutting away , he didn’t look back to see if I was trailing behind him. He merely kept on striding ahead. The more he acted like a pompous dick, the more colorful my anger became—from warm to dark, to all shades of red.
Passing the entrance, I wasn’t really surprised the people who worked here knew him, and they all chimed respectively as he passed them by, bidding him well for the night. He probably was a patron, notorious for his lavish lifestyle and bountiful supply of temporary girlfriends.
The fresh air hitting my warm skin did nothing to soothe my mood. Apparently, he had parked his car a few doors down, and when his Bugatti Veyron came into view, he immediately unlocked it, showing no mercy.
“Get in the car ,” he commanded in a tone I shouldn’t question. Well, he was out of luck tonight because I wasn’t in the mood to be bossed around like a brainless bimbo.
“No.”
Oooh, the “no” truly got to him.
“Merde! Get in the bloody car, Isobel!” He looked murderous yet sexy with his five o’clock shadow and dark, mysterious eyes.
Although, as gorgeous as I found him, it wasn’t enough incentive for him to order me about.
“Which part of no, don’t you understand?” I was tipsy—buzzed—not an idiot. I wanted to infuriate him more, for some odd reason. Maybe it was the way he was reacting—or overreacting—which was just so unusual. Call it curiosity or whatever, but I yearned to see more fire in him. I wanted to stoke his temper until he cracked and burst into flames. “What’s the problem, Hugo Xavier?” I mocked him further. “Are you the man or the mannequin?”
“My problem is you , Isobel,” he finally said after a full minute.
Of all the things I had expected to hear him say, that was something I hadn’t seen coming.
He rounded the car , bearing the same expression on his face, before he stood before me, looking far and beyond disappointed.
“I expected more from you . And seeing how you loved the attention of the men ogling what was underneath your skirt…” he paused, nose flaring as he gave me a cutting look, “I didn’t see you as a
Isobel
“Uh-oh. I think someone’s in big trouble,” Elena whispered into my ear, teasing.
The music was so loud I couldn’t grasp what she was saying , but when she pointed behind me and I turned around to check what she was mumbling about, I was surprised to find Hugo looking like he was Death’s messenger.
Frowning, I stared at him, hoping he hadn’t come here to break up our party. Because if he had, well, I wouldn’t like that very much.
Touching Elena’s shoulder to get her attention, I mouthed and pointed my thumb t owards her cousin’s direction, expecting she’d get the hint that I was going over to say hi. She shooed me away, grinning teasingly before she focused her attention to her other friends—all of whom consisted of men, by the way; a tidbit she had forgotten to mention.
Weaving my way towards Hugo , past the white curtains and a few private parties, I exhaled an exasperated sigh when the man didn’t even move a muscle to meet me halfway. He simply waited, brooding sexily while those hypnotizing eyes of his didn’t miss a beat in following me. Then, once I reached him, he kept on his mask of cool indifference without saying a word.
Hell, is everything okay?
“Is there an emergency?” I asked , almost yelling at him.
When he kept ignoring me, my patience immediately deteriorated. “All right. Well it was odd seeing you here… but I have to get back to my party. Hope you have a blast playing mannequin.” I was being sarcastic, however I couldn’t help it. He was being insufferable.
“Outside,” he bit out. “We need to talk.”
“Good to know your tongue is still intact.” I folded my arms underneath my breasts, readying to fight back. As far as I was concerned, I hadn’t done anything wrong. Thus, for him to come here acting like a complete arse was completely unjustified.
Strutting away , he didn’t look back to see if I was trailing behind him. He merely kept on striding ahead. The more he acted like a pompous dick, the more colorful my anger became—from warm to dark, to all shades of red.
Passing the entrance, I wasn’t really surprised the people who worked here knew him, and they all chimed respectively as he passed them by, bidding him well for the night. He probably was a patron, notorious for his lavish lifestyle and bountiful supply of temporary girlfriends.
The fresh air hitting my warm skin did nothing to soothe my mood. Apparently, he had parked his car a few doors down, and when his Bugatti Veyron came into view, he immediately unlocked it, showing no mercy.
“Get in the car ,” he commanded in a tone I shouldn’t question. Well, he was out of luck tonight because I wasn’t in the mood to be bossed around like a brainless bimbo.
“No.”
Oooh, the “no” truly got to him.
“Merde! Get in the bloody car, Isobel!” He looked murderous yet sexy with his five o’clock shadow and dark, mysterious eyes.
Although, as gorgeous as I found him, it wasn’t enough incentive for him to order me about.
“Which part of no, don’t you understand?” I was tipsy—buzzed—not an idiot. I wanted to infuriate him more, for some odd reason. Maybe it was the way he was reacting—or overreacting—which was just so unusual. Call it curiosity or whatever, but I yearned to see more fire in him. I wanted to stoke his temper until he cracked and burst into flames. “What’s the problem, Hugo Xavier?” I mocked him further. “Are you the man or the mannequin?”
“My problem is you , Isobel,” he finally said after a full minute.
Of all the things I had expected to hear him say, that was something I hadn’t seen coming.
He rounded the car , bearing the same expression on his face, before he stood before me, looking far and beyond disappointed.
“I expected more from you . And seeing how you loved the attention of the men ogling what was underneath your skirt…” he paused, nose flaring as he gave me a cutting look, “I didn’t see you as a
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