“You cow!” Left Blonde hissed. “This is an original Coco Chanel!”
“I need cold water!” Right Blonde whimpered.
“Asher, we’re going to clean up,” Nonaligned Blonde snapped. “Don’t move, and don’t engage with this woman, she’s clearly not right in the head.” She shot me a withering glare. “We’ll be right back,” she ended sweetly.
They linked arms and marched away, like a very angry scarecrow, tin man, and lion off to meet the Wizard.
Meanwhile, Asher was looking completely unconcerned at the damage to his suit and the loss of his romantic entourage. He was instead looking right at me, and looking almost… pleased?
“Why, Kate, I didn’t know you cared.”
“Do I have to care to enjoy ruining terrible dresses?” I retorted. “I was doing them a favor.”
“It’s all about terrible dresses, is it?” Asher said, a wicked grin working its way onto his face. He sidled closer to me. “Then why don’t you go put that poor lady over there out of her misery? I think those might be actual cabbages attached to her shoulders.”
“Maybe I will,” I shot back.
This close, it was hard to keep my mouth from watering at the heat and the scent of him, at the sight of those fine fabrics wrapped so tightly around firm muscle.
Surely one little quickie wouldn’t hurt—I could just grab him by that black silk tie and pull him to some discreet garden corner—I could have his pants down in seconds, hitch up my dress as he grabbed my hips and slid me down onto his cock, holding me up against the brick garden wall, my hair tangling in the ivy—focus, Kate! “Maybe I just will.”
“I don’t see you going anywhere,” he murmured, his eyes dancing with amusement as if he could read my thoughts. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“What am I doing here? I don’t know, Asher, what on earth might I be doing at my best friend’s charity auction?” I retorted indignantly. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?”
Asher raised an eyebrow, the green eyes below still smoldering like an untended fire about to blaze out of control. “This may shock you, Kate, but I too am at my best friend’s charity auction—Grant invited me. And for the record, you are not the last woman on earth. My options are plentiful.”
“And yet you keep going for the clone sisterhood,” I shot back. “Have you talked to a therapist about this obsession?”
“At least I have a date,” he said. “Tell me, how does an attractive lady like you end up all alone? Did you drive away all your other interested suitors too?”
“You—”
I didn’t actually have a snappy comeback for that, which might have been because there was slightly more truth to his statement than I wanted to admit. I ground my teeth and glared at him, and was saved from any more barbs about my single status by a microphone screech followed by a polite British voice announcing that if everyone would gather by the gazebo, it was time to announce the results of the auction.
“Goodbye, Asher.”
“Nonsense,” he said briskly, looping his arm through mine before I could protest and setting off at a brisk clip so that I had to trot to keep up. “You’ve deprived me of my dates, and you seem to be missing one yourself. I’ll accompany you.”
I glared at him with enough force that in any just universe, it would have melted the side of his head. “I’m not a charity case, you jerk!”
“Tut, tut. Can’t you keep a civil tongue in your head? We’re in public, remember. We need to keep the best possible face on things for business. The walls have ears. Smile like I’ve just said something funny.”
“I’d deserve a goddamn Oscar for that,” I muttered through my fakest smile.
“That’s the least of what you deserve.”
I know he hadn’t meant that to sound so sexy, but I had to bite my tongue as he towed me towards the gazebo, where a large crowd had already gathered, more people arriving by the second. The crowd jostled us, pressing me closer to Asher’s hard, warm body, his hip bouncing against mine, heat radiating through his clothing and sending a wake-up call directly to my pussy.
Ignore it, I told myself. Ignore it, ignore it, ignore him!
Yeah, that was definitely easier said than done.
I had to admit he had a point about how we should act friendly in public—so why was I so annoyed? What was it about Asher that made me madder than a British cow? Why had I pulled that stupid stunt with the wine, even though that could only make my jealousy more apparent to someone I was trying desperately to forget?