36

“It takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” My voice shook. Each step he took toward me, I mimicked in the opposite direction until I stood behind the couch, a simple piece of furniture the only divider between us.

“Mm. We don’t know each other that well yet, but we will.” A shattered piece of porcelain crunched beneath his boot.

“You act like it will be memorable for me,” I retorted, forced to the front of the couch when he stepped around it.

“I’msure it’ll be different than your experiences with pampered college boys.”

Frustration tunneled beneath my skin. That was the exact thought that led me into D’yavol’s arms, putting me in a position to be circling a couch to stay away fromhim.

“Ivan isn’t a college boy.” There Madame Richie went again, throwing Ivan under the bus.

His eyes narrowed dangerously as he braced his hands on the back of the couch. “Maybe not, but he is a pussy.”

“You don’t even know him,” I accused.

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