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“I work for him, so I don’t think—” I stop. “I don’t think he’d appreciate that. If you’ll excuse me.”
I whirl away from him and start heading back to Hudson, who’s watching me with narrowed eyes. Or maybe he’s looking at someone else because he’s back talking to the woman. And I breathe a sigh of relief.
A short-lived one.
Because there, to my left, is someone I know.
Danny.
Shit. I cast a glance at Hudson because my brother’s heading over, but Hudson isn’t paying me attention. So, I grab Danny’s arm and drag him off to a corner.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Danny frowns at me.
“Danny,” I hiss. “You—”
“Oh my fucking God.” He’s not looking at me. He’s looking over my shoulder.
I turn.
My brother clutches my arm. “Hudson Sinclair’s coming this way.”
Chapter Nine
Hudson
Of course, the moment I need my less than on point PA slash fake fiancée she’s not there.
No. She’s apparently making the rounds and picking up men.
And I, for one, am not fucking happy.
She leans in, touching the young guy on the arm in a familiar way that spikes a strange, harsh sensation through my blood. And she says something to him and then hurries over, almost running into me.
There are enough people at my exclusive event where I’m dabbling in some head hunting and showing off this building to an array of wanna-be buyers. I’m not selling yet. Just whetting appetites, letting them glimpse the possibilities for this place, and weeding out those I don’t want to have their fingers on it.
I want my hands on Scarlett. I know that. I shouldn’t want that, but I do.
But this isn’t about lust. This is about how things look, or will look. We’re keeping things quiet for obvious reasons, but she needs to play the game I’ve set or else she’s useless to me. Worse than useless.
Thing is, as the cold, stark anger threads through me, I’m not Mr. Nice Guy. I’ve got morals and I pay well, but cross me and I’m like my brothers, like my father. I will destroy you.
I warned her, but that bouncy, bubbly personality might not let her see me for what I am.
Fuck, I fired four people and destroyed a company today. The people weren’t up to the job and the company was small and in my way and a complete and utter waste of space.
I’m not one of those people who squash the little players for fun or because I can. Diversity is the name of the game, and I don’t play in the small real estate arenas. But start poaching on my territory and you are fucking dust.
And she’s doing that. Right now. Poaching other men. Disrupting the delicate ecosystem I’m creating.
Without another thought, I cross to her. I don’t weave through the people, they get the fuck out of my way.
“What are you doing, Scarlett?” I don’t even spare the guy a look. At all. He’s nothing to me and she’s about to join him in utter obscurity—I don’t care who or what her family is, either—if she’s not careful.
She stared up at me and something twisted deep in my guts, hard and I’ve never wanted to strangle such a pretty, slender neck before. Nor rearrange a guy’s face I don’t want to look at.
I’m not going to do it. Too many witnesses. Besides, we have a contract.
“Scarlett?”
