She turned back to the dishwasher. “No problem,” she said, offhand. “Just doing my job.”
He paused as if wanting to say something more, but he just murmured, “Thanks, anyway. I’ll see you in a while.”
Alone once more, she glared at the dishwasher. She really wanted to help Owen achieve his dream, but doing that would only push him closer to Heidi. The logical part of her said that would be a good thing, but a part of her—the selfish, bratty part of her—couldn’t stand the idea. Sighing, she grabbed the last dish. This weekend couldn’t end fast enough for her.
Suppressing a yawn, Paige dug her fingernails into her palm to keep herself awake. Across from her, Owen sat with his elbows resting on his knees. He was sitting forward to stop himself from dozing off, she felt sure. In the wingback armchair, Gordon Asquith lounged easily, an almost-empty brandy snifter in one hand and cigar in the other, as he pontificated about something or other. She’d lost track of the subject a while ago.
Dinner had ended a few hours earlier. They had all settled in the den, Asquith insisting she join them. Since then, he’d held them captive, not with his scintillating conversation but his sheer arrogance. He needed Owen’s project, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Asquith was a bully, just as she’d suspected, and her opinion of him had sunk with every hour he was here.
She watched with growing ire as he finished off his brandy. Why did Owen need this egotist, anyway? He wasn’t the only potential investor around.
“Would you like a refill?” Owen asked, the dutiful host even though Paige was sure he was longing to leave just like she was.
“Why not?”
Paige silently groaned. As Owen got up, she caught sight of the new shoes he’d been wearing all day. They were very stylish, but she knew they weren’t too comfortable, and suddenly she wished he wore his crummy, disreputable canvas sneakers instead.
Owen lifted the brandy decanter, but it was empty. “I’ll get another bottle,” he said before exiting the den.
Asquith crossed his legs, his gaze settling on Paige. This was the first time she and Asquith were sitting alone, and she didn’t care for it. On a pretext she stood and walked over to the windows to close the curtains, drawing out the task so she wouldn’t have to look at Asquith.
“I’ve been thinking about why you seem so familiar to me.” Asquith’s voice came from just behind her, causing her to start. She hadn’t heard him getting to his feet and approaching her. It was a bit creepy.
“Oh?” She kept her back to him, pretending to straighten the curtains.
“Yes. It’s been nagging at me ever since I got here. So before dinner I asked Cranston.”
A small chill slid down her back. She knew the butler was someone to be careful of. “I’m really not that interesting.”
“I disagree. I found what Cranston had to say ve-ery interesting.”
She couldn’t keep her back to him forever, or he would think she was nervous of him. Slowly she turned around. The leer on his face shocked her, but she schooled herself not to show any reaction.
“Not just interesting,” Asquith drawled, “but should I saylucky? Very lucky?”
Maintain eye contact with the bastard. Don’t let him intimidate me. He thought he could bait her, but she’d already been tormented a hundred times, and she wasn’t going to crack anymore. Not even when his bloodshot eyes lowered to ogle her breasts.
She pushed her chin higher. “You surprise me, Mr. Asquith. You don’t look the type to trawl the internet for titillating videos.”
His already-flushed cheeks grew darker. Ha. Score one to me.
He lurched forward. Brandy fumes enveloped her. “And you don’t look the type to bounce your boobs in front of a camera.” He licked his lips. “But here we are.”
Her hand twitched with the impulse to slap him across the cheek. Sleazy jerk. He gave himself all these airs, but he was no better than all the other morons she’d had to deal with. Starring in an embarrassing video sure told you who your friends were.
“It’s getting late.” She tried to sidestep him but he blocked her exit. Oh damn, where the hell was Owen?
“Owen will be back soon,” she said loudly, hopefully.
“I don’t think so.” His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. “After all, he wouldn’t want to interrupt the entertainment he’s laid on for me, would he?”
She was so shocked she didn’t resist when he yanked her toward him, but as she fell against him, revulsion slammed into her.
“No.” She tried to pull free, but his fingers gouged more deeply into her flesh. “No.”
“Yes.” Lizard eyes flickered over her.
Blood roared in her ears. How dare he manhandle her like this? She was going to have to knee the revolting imbecile in the groin, dammit, and as soon as she did, all Owen’s hard work would be for nothing. But she couldn’t let this sleazebag push her around. She took a deep breath and—
“Let her go.” Owen’s voice growled just behind her, making her pulse leap. “Now.”
Asquith fumed at him. “If you know what’s good for you, Bellamy, just turn around and walk out.”
Owen’s hand fastened on her shoulder, and his reassuring warmth rushed through her. “Sound advice. You should take it.”
As Asquith’s face darkened, Paige yanked herself free. She stepped back into the solid protection of Owen’s body. Instantly he curved his arm around her shoulders, pulling her farther away. The furious hum of his body enveloped her and set her heart pounding in unison.
“Come on.” He turned them away from Asquith. “Let’s get out of here before I do something I regret.”
They hadn’t taken two steps when a roar sounded behind them and Owen staggered as Asquith charged at him, knocking him forward. Cheeks mottled, the billionaire let loose a stream of obscenities as he swung his fists at Owen. The first punch caught Owen on the chin. He grunted but stood his ground. Paige couldn’t breathe. As Asquith launched a second punch, Owen’s hand shot up and wrapped around the other man’s fist. For a second the two men stared at each other, Owen’s grip rock steady, his face a study in grim determination. The muscles in his biceps swelled before he shoved the other man away with explosive force. Asquith stumbled back, arms windmilling, mouth gaping in shock. He toppled against the coffee table.
“Damn you” He grabbed the empty brandy snifter and hurled it at Owen.
“Watch out!” Paige cried.
Owen ducked. The glass smashed into the wall. Owen stepped forward and slapped Asquith across the face. The smacking sound echoed around the den.
“You—you—” Asquith choked, incandescent with rage. A bright red palm print glowed on his cheek.
“You have ten minutes to get out of my house.” Owen was breathing hard, his face white and implacable.
Still panting, Asquith drew himself up. “I—”
“Ten minutes. Hurry up. The clock’s ticking.”
The billionaire stood there, clearly too flabbergasted to move. Paige held her breath. If Asquith didn’t leave, she had no doubt that Owen would literally throw him out the house. The situation was dire enough; she didn’t want that to happen. Fortunately Cranston appeared in the doorway, silent as a shadow. He seemed to know what had happened—maybe he’d been lurking outside—as he quietly moved to his employee’s side and began to guide him out of the room. Hair askew, Asquith shook off his butler’s hold, shot one last enraged look at Owen, and stalked out.
Cranston followed. As he passed Paige, he murmured, “I’ve already organized transport. We’ll be gone in five minutes.”
And then she was alone with Owen. She let out a long exhale, realizing she’d been holding her breath for heaven knew how long. The atmosphere in the den felt as shattered as the brandy snifter lying in pieces on the floor. Owen stood, his face and eyes like granite, fists clenched at his sides. A dull bruise was forming on his jaw where Asquith’s punch had landed. At the sight of his injury, her heart started aching all over again. Her first instinct was to rush to him, but the bleakness in his eyes made her quail. Owen looked like he’d lost everything in his life.
But she couldn’t leave him. Instead, she moved over to the wall where the brandy snifter had broken. Shards of glass sparkled on the floor.
“Leave it,” Owen bit out.
“But I should—”
“Leave it, for God’s sake. Go to bed. I don’t want you here when Asquith comes back downstairs.”
Her stomach heaved. It was all her fault. She’d ruined his chances with Asquith and all because of that wretched video. Her one moment of stupidity had swung a wrecking ball through Owen’s business deal. He’d been anxious not to slip up in his manners or dress, had even roped her in for advice. How ironic that she should be responsible for this disaster.
I’m so, so sorry, she wanted to cry out, but what was the use in apologizing? Especially when Owen looked like he wanted to strangle someone—probably her. She had to put things right. Somehow—she hadn’t the faintest idea how—she had to get Owen his business deal. She had to get him to not hate her so much. But right now, she saw, all he wanted was for her to disappear.