Untrue Colors (Entangled Select Suspense) by Veronica Forand Page B

Gabe’s suggestion of angel investors. From Henry’s vantage point, Frank appeared mesmerized by her, completely caught up in their conversation. She acted as though Frank was the only person in the room. Her sweetness came across as seductive. At least to Henry it did. And he wanted that seductive look all to himself. Jealousy burned in his chest, but she wasn’t his. And never would be.

Chapter Eleven
    If Alex had to speak to Frank for one more minute about the potential for a biotechnology boom in developing countries, she’d be forced to cut out his throat with her fish knife. Instead, she raised her eyebrows, fixed her mouth a shade lower than a smile, and nodded in agreement with whatever he said.
    Regretfully, Frank took that as encouragement to continue speaking. “Our major competition is a US company, Oak Industries. They hold most of the patents in the field and the CEO, Peter Northrop, works nonstop to keep the company on the cutting edge of vaccine development and HIV treatments. It works, because no one beats Oak in biotechnology right now.”
    Crap. Of all the people in London, to be paired with someone who knows Dad. God must be having a huge cosmic laugh over this seating plan.
    Had Frank ever met her father? If he had, he may also have met her mother. Alex didn’t inherit her mother’s abilities as a socialite, but she did inherit most of her facial features, especially her petite nose and light brown eyes.
    At the mention of Oak Industries, she rubbed her thumb over the bandage covering her acorn tattoo. She didn’t want to talk about anything related to her family. The topic soured her stomach and thoroughly depressed her, especially since Frank had spoken the truth. Peter had never been the best father, but was always the best in business.
    Frank took a sip of wine and stared at her. “You look remarkably familiar.”
    “I do?” she asked, flipping part of her hair in front of one of her eyes.
    “Yes, but I can’t place your face. Have you been to any parties in Silicon Valley recently?”
    “No. My work keeps me in Europe.”
    “Give me time. I never forget a face.”
    Their conversation needed to veer away from the biotechnology field. Pretending to drink more than she had, she expounded on the wonderful bouquet in the Chianti complementing the savory beef dish. It worked. Frank followed her into a discussion of vineyards in Italy. She sat through the rest of the meal smiling and providing innocuous answers to probing questions.
    One of the Russian beauties whispered to her compatriot in their native tongue. They probably assumed they were either being quiet enough not to be overheard or no one had the intelligence to learn such a random foreign language. A stupid practice, by stupid people.
    The lanky brunette told the fake redhead that the blonde sitting next to her was going to marry the earl. The redhead glanced at Alex and smiled. She then raised her eyebrows in condescension and giggled. Even if Alex didn’t know Russian, it would be hard to miss the slight.
    “What was he thinking?” Red asked in her native tongue.
    Her bony counterpart whipped her hair back and smirked. “He wanted a pretty little thing that wouldn’t cause him any trouble. It won’t last. She has nothing going for her. She’s flat-chested, short, and has a boring personality. He’ll be sick of her before the honeymoon is over.”
    They continued to rattle on about their own prospects for marriage and then switched back into English in an attempt to convince the men around them to go clubbing after dinner.
    Alex picked at her food and ignored her wine, except for the occasional toast. When dinner had finished, everyone mingled together until a uniformed butler served tea and dessert in the living room. Frank followed her to the dessert table. So much for an escape.
    He hovered over her as she picked up a chocolate-covered strawberry. “You should come out to the Funky Goat with us.”
    “Funky