Chapter 0005

Fiona

“I wasn’t flirting with men all night, Ethan. I was looking for a lawyer to file a lawsuit against my husband,” I tell Ethan. The fear of what just happened still covers me, but with him here, I feel better. Even though he’s acting like a complete bastard.

“Is this really the only way to find a lawyer?”

I ignore his question, the anger finally catching up with me. My face burns and my chest aches at the disgust and anger in his question. It grates on my nerves. He shouldn’t be making sarcastic remarks without knowing the entire situation.

“You shouldn’t have gone around with so many men,” Ethan grumbles. His jaw ticks in annoyance or anger, and whichever it is makes me confused.

“Why would you care who I talk to?” I ask, walking and crossing my arms over my chest. “It’s none of your business, Ethan.”

He may have saved me, but that doesn’t give him the right to boss me around.

“Are you going to continue going through man after man to find a lawyer?”

I gape at him.

“What?! No. I was just talking to them,” I argue. “I don’t have any ulterior motives.”

He watches me then inhales and exhales loudly.

When we reach the building, I take several steps away from him and enter. I don’t need anyone else thinking I’m a floozy, but it doesn’t seem like anyone noticed we’d gone anywhere. Good. I don’t need anyone, especially Jack, bugging me about sneaking off.

“If I can have everyone’s attention,” a man announces, then continues, “I’d like to officially initiate the start of the ball by inviting our esteemed guest, Ethan Montgomery, to the dance floor.” A spotlight suddenly lands on Ethan, and all eyes fall on Ethan as he scans the crowd, everyone watching and waiting.

Nervously, I shift on my feet and take a few steps away, but before I can get far, Ethan has my hand in his. He pulls me toward him and shock filters through me. I never would’ve guessed he’d choose me over the glamorous socialites standing around us, especially with how angry he was moments ago.

“Ethan, don’t…”

My words trail off as he pulls me against his chest and settles one hand in mine and the other on my waist. I stiffen, but the heat from his touch seeps into my skin, relaxing me as he pulls me to the middle of the dance floor. Butterflies erupt in my stomach.

Memories from that night of his fingers, his mouth, his… I shove the thoughts away as heat rises in my body. I do not need to be thinking of sleeping with Ethan when everyone in the building is looking at us.

Envious eyes from women all around us make me bite my lip. My hands shake, making me hold tighter to Ethan.

“Refusing me in front of everyone wouldn’t be a good idea,” Ethan mutters, sensing my hesitation.

He’s right, refusing him could cause me problems, so I let him lead. We swirl across the floor, our bodies becoming closer as we move. My skirt swishes around me as Ethan twirls me out then pulls me closer, our noses nearly brushing.

I take in a sharp, unsteady breath. Forget the butterflies. I’ve got an entire stampede of elephants rumbling around in my stomach.

We’re so close I can feel the warmth of his body seeping into me and nearly making me dizzy with want. I squeeze his hand again, forcing my attention away and allowing my eyes to scan the crowd.

I try to imagine what they see—a poor little nobody and the richest, most handsome man here in a close embrace.

When I look up again, Ethan’s green eyes bore into mine, studying me. It’s like he doesn’t see anything or anyone else.

Does he not care that everyone is watching?

His large hands spanning my waist feel hot and heavy, and I have to force myself not to lean in.

“Why dance with me?” I ask. He could’ve chosen anyone to dance with, to hold close like this, but he didn’t.

Heat runs up my chest and neck, into my cheeks when Ethan leans in, his lips brushing my ear. I shiver at the intimate touch, especially when his fingers slightly tighten around my waist and pull me impossibly closer.

His husky voice scrapes along my nerves and sends a tingle through me as he whispers, “All the other women are trouble.”

Am I not trouble too? With the way he was berating me earlier, I figured he would see me as trouble for him.

Ethan pulls back a bit and stares down into my eyes.

“How is your relationship with your husband?”

The question catches me off guard, and I jerk back. Jack. My husband.

The pleasure of Ethan’s touch turns cold at the mention of the disgusting pig I call my husband. The question is an ill-timed interruption, but my answer comes easily. “I hate him because he completely broke my heart. Everything about my husband is fake—his love and his attitude.”

Ethan smirks, looking pleased.

“Boss,” a voice interrupts, pulling my attention from Ethan to my husband. “Fiona is my wife, and she’s getting close to you with ulterior motives. I’m planning to divorce her because of her promiscuity.” He waves his hands at me, then around the room. “Look how she’s been flirting with men all night.”

We slow to a stop, and Ethan turns to my husband with an irritated expression. Meanwhile, the crowd chitters with insults and disgusted comments.

“How could she do that to her husband,” I catch someone saying.

“Disgusting,” says another.

“She should be ashamed.”

I clench my teeth and turn to Jack. “You shameless man—”

“Look at the marks on her neck from some other man. Boss, please believe me,” Jack argues, pointing at the hickeys Ethan had left on my neck the other night. Before I came to the party, I covered them with makeup, but I guess it rubbed off in the scuffle with Daniel.

Jessica appears at that moment and takes Jack’s side, testifying, “I’m Fiona’s sister, and I know just how loose she is. You’d better stay away from her!”

I cringe at the loud volume of her voice and then glare at Jessica.

“If anyone is a loose woman, it’s you, Jessica,” I shout, pointing at her. “You’re the ones in the wrong here.”

A sharp gasp sounds from someone in the audience, followed by an outraged voice, “How dare she try to blame her husband.”

My heart stutters, and I look around to find glares pointed at me while looks of pity and remorse are aimed at Jack.

“I’ve only been helping Jack with business while you’ve been out cheating on your husband,” Jessica sneers. A little bit of guilt tugs at me, but I shove it away. They started this. Not me.

The crowd around us whispers more, and my stomach twists in anger and embarrassment as all their revulsion lands fully on my shoulders. Why did they have to start this fight in public? Why did any of this have to happen? Couldn’t they just leave me alone?

“These marks?” Ethan asks, surprising me by brushing a finger along my neck. I shiver and without meaning to, I lean into his touch. It’s gentle, like when he took me to bed. A flash of how I got these marks hits me, and I press my lips together.

“I made these marks, so what’s the problem?”

Jack’s eyes bulge from his head, and Jessica gasps.

“These are my marks,” Ethan says again, tugging me closer. My back collides with his chest as his arm snakes around my waist. The whisper of his lips brushing a particularly sensitive mark below my ear makes my eyelids flutter.

In that same moment, Jack takes a step back as his eyes flicker between us.