Page 86 of Dissension

It’s a decent townhome, quite modern, quietly masculine in style. They didn’t have a grand home when she was growing up. Looks like her father has been doing well for himself.Hah. Well. If embezzlement has anything to do with it…

Standing in the lovely open floor space, Kara utters the words that nearly catch in her throat. “Hi, Daddy.”

Deep, dark eyes catch on her face from across the room, like midnight gems.

For once, Kara isn’t afraid.

This is a monster shecanwin against.

Epilogue

It’s good to be home, back in town, drinking her silly little mocktail that helps her fit in at the glamorously decorated bar.

She’s at one of her favorite restaurants, getting a bite to eat with the casual slowness of someone who has all the time in the world. She glances down at her watch momentarily before taking another drink-

A man takes his place beside her, smelling of some expensive cologne, something woodsy. Sophisticated and clean. Kara enjoys the smell of it as he sinks down beside her, despite all the open chairs at this particular bar.

“None of the other chairs looked good to you?” She asks him coolly, with an air of being unimpressed, an eyebrow raised. She injects bitch into her tone, justenough.

“None of those other chairs were by you,” the rude intruder replies smoothly, eyes glittering with sly amusement. “You might not like the company, but I do.”

The arrogance of this man lights up her nerves. “Oh, so what I want doesn’t matter, so long as you’re having a good time? How misogynist of you.”

His mouth nearly quirks with amusement. With a huff, Kara averts her face and pretends to ignore him. He’sruiningher solitude.

It seems bludgeoning the man with disinterest isn’t going to work, because he’s still talking. “What’s your name, Princess?” God, the smugness makes her want to shake him. That and hispersistence.

Fuck. She forgot to think a name up beforehand. “Kelly.”

“Kelly?” It sounds like he wants to choke on the name for a moment, but he covers it up swiftly. “How…quaint.”

“Hm.” She makes a gesture, as if shooing him away. He catches her hand in one of his large, warm palms. Kara turns her head to glower at him, sending him the message nonverbally,how dare you presume to touch me?

“Tell me,Kelly.” He stresses her name with a smirk that makes his features more handsome than it has any right to be. “What do you do?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m a lawyer. Working at one of our local firms.” Kara looks him up and down slowly, because he does look rather nice in that suit, tailored to perfection. Go figure. She yanks her hand out of his grasp on principle. “And you? CEO of Misogyny Outfitters?”

That growing smirk of his simply reeks oftrouble. His tropical eyes, dancing with entertainment at her expense. “Close. Hedge Fund Manager.”

Oh, he would pick something so utterly pretentious, wouldn’t he? God, she wants to eat him alive. She’d flay him with her tongue if she could. She feels her mouth quirk with a sharp smile of amusement. “Maybe you’ll have to tell me about that. Is that a stressful job?” Her tone mocks. “Is your idea of letting loose harassing young women at the bar?”

His eyes slide over her subtle cleavage. “I’d tell you, but I wouldn’t want to bore you with such things, dollface.”

That’s a new one. “You call all the random girls you meet ‘dollface’?” She gestures to the bartender that she wants to settle her bill, because clearly this strange man is ruining her mood and she wants to escape ASAP. The bartender understands how it is for a young woman alone and gets right on it with a knowing look.

The man beside her drinks his gin down and Kara watches his throat work. He’s powerful and crisp in this navy blazer, the cut of his shoulders, the brightness of his blue eyes. His presence iscompelling, just as his arrogance is repulsive. “Just you. The real special ones, I call them sweetpea.”

Ha. Ha.

“Glad I’m not one of yourspecial ones. I’d hate to be called that,” Kara eggs him on with a bite in her tone. She bares her teeth, just a touch. A sliver of violence in her gaze. “I’m not sweet.”

“Maybe not,” he murmurs, eyes going darker, hot with something like desire. He likes that she’s not easy, that she’s refusing him. Sick bastard-

He leans in close and whispers in her ear, breath shifting her hair. “You might not be sweet, but I bet you taste like it between your thighs.”

Kara feels her face go red.Oh. It’s definitely time to get out of here.

Even as her insides coil with liquid hunger, Kara lifts her chin and gets off her fancy cushioned barstool. Giving him her most offended stare, Kara hisses under her breath, “You absolute pig. You disgust me. Have fun harassingsomeone else.”

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