Chapter 4

• Jewels, designer gowns, and name-dropping are prevalent as Annabelle observes all of the celebrities, socialites, and philanthropists who fill the old theater. Tonight is the culmination of much of her efforts over the past year. An event to raise the majority of the funds needed to break ground on the new facilities.
• And she is way out of her comfort zone.
• Caleb discretely rolls his eyes at her from across the room, for he knows she would much rather be back at The House with the boys in her usual jeans and ponytail. She allows a ghost of a smile to grace her lips as she nods her head at him in silent agreement before taking a sip of her champagne.
• She is still trying to wrap her head around what she willingly allowed to happen backstage and the sting of knowing she wasn’t the first person Mr. Arrogant had made his moves on tonight. She’s dumbfounded at both her uncharacteristic actions and confused at how hurt she feels. Surely she can’t expect a man looking for a quick romp to have any kind of emotion behind his actions other than to purely boost his already-inflated ego.
• “There you are, Annabelle,” a voice interrupts her thoughts.
• She turns to find her boss. A bear of a man standing close to six and half feet tall with a heart bigger than that of anyone she’s ever met. Appropriately enough, he looks like a big teddy bear. “Teddy,” she says affectionately as she leans into the arm he’s placed on her shoulders in a quick hug. “Looks like it’s turning out well, don’t you think?”
• “Thanks to all your hard effort. From what I hear, the checks are coming in.” His lips curve, the smile causing his eyebrows to wiggle. “And that’s before the auction begins.”
• “Just because it’s a successful way to raise money, doesn’t mean I have to agree with it,” she reluctantly admits, trying to not sound like a prude. It’s a debate they’ve had countless times over the past couple of months with regard to the date auction.
• Even though it’s for charity, she just doesn’t understand why women are willing to sell themselves to the highest bidder. She can’t help but think the bidders are going to want more than just a date in return for the fifteen-thousand dollar starting bid.
• “It’s not like we’re running a brothel, Rylee,” Teddy admonishes. He sidesteps and looks over her right shoulder as a guest catches his attention. “Oh, there’s someone I want you to meet. This is a cause very near and dear to him. He’s one of our chairpeople’s sons who—” he stops his explanation as whoever it is approaches nearby. “ Kensington! Good to see you,” he says heartily as he shakes hands with the person at her back.
• She turns around, willing to make a new acquaintance and meets the bemused eyes of Mr. Arrogant.
• Well, shit! How is it that despite being twenty-six years old, she suddenly feels like a prepubescent, awkward teenager? The half an hour away from him has done nothing to dampen his scorching good looks or the forbidden pull he has on her libido.
• His six-foot-plus frame is covered in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that screams affluence, and her knowledge that beneath the jacket lies an obviously toned torso makes her bite her lower lip in unwanted need. And yet despite his magnetism, she’s still furious at him.
• Annabelle's mind sparks again with the notion that he looks familiar, that he resembles someone she knows, but the shock of seeing him again overrides the thought pinging around in her head.
• He smirks at her, his mirth apparent, and all she can think about is how those lips felt on hers. How his fingers, holding a tumbler now, felt traveling over her bare skin. About the length of his body pressed against hers.
• And how he had licentiously acquainted himself with another woman moments before moving on to debase her.
• Plastering a fake smile on her face, her eyes glare at Kensington as an unaware Teddy addresses him. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet. She’s the driving force behind what you see tonight.“ Teddy turns to her, placing a hand on her lower back. “Annabelle Tremaine, please meet—”
• “We’ve already met,” she says sweetly, interrupting him, saccharine oozing from her words as she smiles at them. Teddy looks at her oddly, for insincerity is rare from her. “Thank you for the introduction, though,” she continues, looking from Teddy to Kensington, reaching out to shake his hand as if he is just another potential benefactor.
• Dragging his eyes from her and her abnormal behavior, Teddy focuses back onto Mr. Arrogant. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
• “Immensely,” he muses, releasing his too-long hold on her hand. She has to refrain from the derisive snort that she wants to make in hearing his response. How can he not be enjoying himself? Arrogant bastard. Maybe she should get on the stage and take a schoolyard poll of women here tonight to see whom he has not debauched already.
• “Were you able to get some food? Annabelle was able to get one of the hottest chefs in Hollywood to donate his services,” Teddy explains, always trying to be the consummate host.
• Kensington looks at her, humor crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I had a little taste of something while I was wandering around backstage.” She sucks in her breath, catching his innuendo as he moves his eyes back to Teddy. “It was rather unexpected but quite exquisite,” he murmurs. “Thank you.”
• She hears someone call Teddy’s name, and he eyes her again with curiosity before apologizing. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere for a moment.” He turns toward Kensington, “It’s great seeing you again. Thank you for coming.”
• They both nod in assent as Teddy leaves. Scowling, she turns on her heel to walk away from Kensington for she wants to erase him and his memory from her evening.
• His hand hastily closes over her bare arm, tugging her so that her backside lands against the steeled length of his body. Her breath hitches in response at her body’s reaction to the feel of him. She glances around, glad that everyone seems to be so absorbed in their own conversations that they’ve not drawn their attention.
• She can feel Kensington's chin brush against her shoulder as his mouth nears her ear. “Why are you so pissed, Ms. Tremaine?” There is a biting chill to his voice that warns her he’s not a man to be messed with. “Is it because you can’t let go of your high-brow ways and admit that despite what your head says, your body wants more of this rebel from the wrong side of the tracks?” He chuckles, a low, patronizing growl in her ear. “Or are you so practiced at being frigid that you always deprive yourself of what you want. What you need? What you feel?”
• Annabelle bristles, trying unsuccessfully to pull her arm out of his firm grip. Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. She stills as another couple walks past them—eyeing them closely, trying to figure out the situation between them. Kensington releases her arm and rubs his hand over it instead, giving the impression of a lover’s touch. And despite her fury, or maybe because of it, his touch triggers a myriad of sensations everywhere his fingers trace over her skin. Goosebumps ripple in their wake.
• She can feel his breath rake over her cheek again. “It’s very arousing, Annabelle, knowing that you’re so responsive to just my touch alone. Very intoxicating,” he whispers as he trails a finger across her bare shoulder. “You know you want to explore why your body reacts the way it did to me. You think I didn’t see you undressing me with your eyes, enjoy you fucking me with your mouth?” She gasps as he puts his hand on her stomach and pulls her tightly back against him so that she can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into her lower back.
• Despite her anger, it’s a heady feeling to know that she can make this man react in such a way. But then again, he probably reacts this way to the numerous women who, without a doubt, throw themselves at his feet on a regular basis.
• “You’re lucky I don’t drag you back in that storage closet I found you in and take what you offered. Make you cry out my name.” He nips softly at her ear, and she has to stifle the uncontrollable moan of desire that threatens to escape. “To fuck you and get you out of my system. Then move on,” he finishes.
• She’s never been spoken to this way—would never have thought she’d allow someone to—but his words, the vigor with which he speaks them, unexpectedly turn her on.
• She's mad at her body for its unbidden reaction to this pompous man. He obviously knows the hold he can have over a woman’s body, and unfortunately, it is hers at the moment. She’s astute enough to acknowledge that he gets her blood humming, but his arrogance is irritating as hell. And she knows that she participated just as thoroughly as he did, but right now, it’s the principle that urges her to dispute.
• She turns slowly to face him and narrows her eyes. Her voice is cold as ice. “Presumptuous, aren’t you, Ace? No doubt your typical MO is to fuck ’em and chuck ’em?” His eyes widen in response to her unexpected vulgarity. Or maybe he’s just surprised that she has him figured out so quickly. She holds his stare, her body vibrating with anger. “How many women have you tried to seduce tonight?” She raises her eyebrows in disgust as guilt flickers fleetingly across his face. “What? Didn’t you know that I happened upon you and your first conquest of the evening in the little alcove backstage?” Kensington's eyes widen at her words.
• She continues, enjoying the surprised look on his face. “Did she play you at your own game, and leave you wanting for more? Aching to prove what a man you are since you couldn’t fulfill her? That you had to pick a frantic woman locked in a closet to take advantage of? I mean, really, how many women have you used your bullshit lines on tonight? How many have you tried to leave your mark on?”