“What’s your name?” he asked. He kept his face toward the ground. He dug his palms into his forehead now as though he were in pain.
“Kathleen,” she muttered. “Kathleen Davis.”
He breathed heavily for several seconds and then lifted his gaze, a pained expression covering his face. He’d clearly rather be shoveling shit than talking to her. “How old are you?”
She stared at him, angry now. Who the fuck cared how old she was? And what the hell was the matter with him?
She stood. “I’m gonna go.” Hopefully the coast was clear in the hall. She was so unwanted in this room, she was no longer sure the strange, mentally-challenged imbecile in the hall wasn’t her better option. She eased around the chair, not taking her gaze off the blond man following her with his own gaze.
He shook his head before she could advance more than a few steps. “Like hell. Sit.”
She flinched. He narrowed his gaze, demanding compliance with just a look.
She gripped the back of the chair and returned the stare. She straightened her spine, not letting him get the best of her. Fuck him. Who the hell did he think he was? Just because he smelled like sex on a stick and made her knees weak and her heart pound didn’t give him the right to order her around.
On a dime, he changed his facial expression, a grin spreading across his lips. He laughed. “Well, aren’t you stubborn? Sit, Kathleen.” He nodded toward the chair again. “I’m not used to such defiance. Tell me what happened in the hall. Please.” His voice was firm even though he’d lightened up a smidge.
Kathleen rounded the chair and resumed her spot. If he was going to stop growling at her, he wasn’t so bad. When she looked back into his eyes, he gave a small snort, clearly pleased with her obedience.
Her palms were sweaty and she wiped them on her short cotton skirt, gripping the material and balling it up in her fists. Too much leg was showing, and she quickly released the dress to smooth it out as far as it would reach, not even to her knees.
Why on earth had she ever thought this dress was perfect for this night?
“The hall?” He raised one eyebrow in question.
Kathleen gulped and opened her dry lips. She licked them slowly, trying to find a brain cell to use.
She watched as the man who seemed to fill the entire room with his physique and his personality waited for her to speak.
“There was a guy at the meat market . . . party, I mean. He thought to claim me—”
“Why? You aren’t even his,” he interrupted.
She jerked. How the hell would he know that? “He, um, he seemed to think I was. Though I quickly surmised he was quite wrong myself.” Surmised? What’s coming out of my mouth?
“Go on.” His face went back to frustrated. He didn’t look as sexy with his brow furrowed like that.
“He snuck up behind me at the party, grabbed my hand, and dragged me into the hall.”
“Are you serious? Who is this guy?” Tall and handsome stood and began to pace. He ran his fingers through his messy blond locks again, making himself more appealing and sexy than before.
“No idea. Marcus something. He didn’t give me his last name.”
“Go on,” he demanded again, pausing his frantic pacing to stare at her. “You popped in here as though the hounds of hell were on your heels.”
Now her entire mouth felt too dry to speak. If he reacted this way to the first half of the saga, how would he react to the second half? She needed a drink of water. She wasn’t about to ask for one though. He didn’t strike her as the kind of person she should interrupt. “He insisted I was his, mumbled something about my sister, and then tried to kiss me.”
“He kissed you?” The man barked, his voice cracking at a higher pitch than he was capable of. He leaned forward, his neck craning as though he’d misheard her words.
“Sort of,” she mumbled, biting her lip. “He tried. His breath reeked, and I kneed him in the groin and then ran down the hall.”
Tall, dark, and handsome tipped his head back and chuckled again. “Good girl. I hope you maimed him.”
“I don’t think so. He was chasing me. That’s why I slipped into this room. Didn’t mean to disturb you.” She stood again, thinking to escape. The air in the room was filled with his scent, and she quickly lost the capacity to reason under the strange spell this man cast on her.
In a flash, he was in front of her, pressing her into the chair with his hands on her shoulders.
She gasped, fear running down her spine. Her memory lingered on the strange man-child in the hall who’d attempted to subdue her minutes ago. Somehow the creepy Marcus seemed to be closer to twelve years old than an adult.