For a brief moment she failed to understand. She thought he was talking to Mark, and she couldn’t figure out why Pete, who clearly hated him, would ask to have dinner with him. And then she got it, and her instincts said a low, firm, No.
Actually, it was Mark who’d said no. He’d straightened up to look squarely at Pete, and he said it again. “No. No way.”
If the eyebrow rose any higher it would be lost in Pete’s bangs. “What’s it to you?”
Her whole body rang a warning, and she tried to call Mark off but couldn’t catch his eyes, which were focused with laser precision on Pete. “She’s not some pawn you can bargain with.”
“Huh,” said Pete. “I don’t recall asking you. I think Haven can speak for herself. Right, Haven? What do you say. Dinner?”
She understood now, all too well, how Mark kept letting Pete rile him up. The guy was a toad, but it was impossible to ignore him. Given that there had been some unintentionally shared woman in their past—God, Pete was brilliant at this.
“Quit it, Sovereign.”
“Why, Webster? Is there any reason Haven can’t say yes to a date with me?’
“She’s seeing someone, right, Haven?”
Well, yes, she supposed she was technically seeing Jewelry Marketing Guy, since she’d agreed to go out with him again. Regardless, there was no way she would agree to dinner with Pete. Quite apart from the fact that she had no desire to give an evening to him, it would only inflame the situation between him and Mark. “Right,” she said.
Her office felt close and hot.
Mark’s face was dark. Pete’s still wore a smirk.
“Well,” said Pete, “that’s a pity. Because I’m sure if we had just a little time together you could convince me to do the tour. If you change your mind, let me know. You’ve got my number, right?”
“You’re a dick, you know that?” Mark was all bristle.
“Mark, don’t,” Haven said.
“This is between you and me, jerkoff. Don’t bring her into it.”
“This has nothing to do with you and me,” Pete said coolly, “and everything to do with how very beautiful I find Haven. Don’t you agree? Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Mark, no.” She caught his arm again and almost got yanked over as he lunged at Pete. Pete sidestepped them and headed for the door.
“Don’t get your undies in a bundle. Haven, I’m free every night this week. You know where to find me.” He gave a little toodle-oo wave, and before Mark could wrest himself free and launch a fresh assault, Pete was gone.
6
THAT ASSHOLE. That pile of shit, dickwad, lower-than-scum, son-of-a—
Going after Haven that way, treating her like a pawn, treating her like collateral, like something he could bargain with.
“What the hell, Mark?”
It took him a moment to realize she wasn’t grateful. She was pissed.