Page 40 of Contention

The man is tall, with midnight black hair and a fierce goatee. He claps Calais on the shoulder and says, “Is she coming with? The more the merrier.”

Calais grits his teeth, “She’s not.”

The man laughs, deep in his throat. “Don’t be boring. Come on.” He slides into the idling limo after the girl.

Kara gives her nemesis a hard look, noticing the hazy way he’s looking at her. “I’m not leaving until we talk. So, you might as well let me get this over with.”

Rolling his eyes, Calais growls under his breath. “Unbelievable.” With those words, he ducks down and crawls into the limo, leaving the door open for Kara in a telling fashion before she can stop him.

Kara stands in front of it, suddenly wondering if she really wants to get in and talk to him or not. Perhaps he’s trying to make her lose her cool. She meant to talk to him right there, on the sidewalk!Not in the limo!

Asshole!

It isn’t overly bright inside of the limo, but the small little party lights give off a certain glow from within. The sound of voices are white noise in her ears as she meets his gaze where he’s sitting.

There’s an alcohol haze about him, soft and glowy. His bright, Caribbean blue eyes are gentled by the liquor, but his face still has that stony aspect to it, like he’s carved from granite. Though the many others that Kara can hear inside the limo are laughing, there is no laughter in his eyes. Havenwood-Calais drawls with a hint of irritation, “I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me, girl.”

At his flat tone, the other voices inside of the limo go silent. The others that Kara can’t see are likely listening, curious about her. She wonders if any of them will recognize her face. Unlikely, seeing as Calais didn’t even recognize her in court that initial day.

How many people are in this limo, exactly?

“Don’t flatter yourself, old man. I have a bone to pick with you,” Kara says archly, hands still on her hips. “Seeing as you so rudely tossed me on my ass, not once, buttwicenow.” She shakes two fingers at him.

Okay, so he never tossed her out of the limo that blank night in her memory, but she’s counting being tossed at the elevator the night before at theDark Miragefor sure.Which also wastechnically not on her ass, but Kara did get ejected rather physically from the establishment. Which, was embarrassing. He’s to blame, for a lot of things actually.

Calais is staring at her, a bit of a drunken flush on his cheekbones. Not attractive in the least. Nope. Not at all. There’s a different woman sitting next to him, practically glued to his side now, her neon mini dress going high up her thighs. Calais doesn’t even seem to notice her as he stares down Kara with displeasure.

In fact, he looks pissed at Kara. She’s the peasant that just won’t go away, he’s the licentious nobleman that wants to forget she exists.

Tough luck, boyo. This time you can’t have your way.

“You owe me a civilized chat after that accidental debacle the other night.” She raises both her eyebrows at his silence. “Well? What say you, Lord of the Limo? Are you prepared for your vessel to be boarded?”

His lips tighten, but in the way that he’s trying to stifle a smile at her blatant attempt to appeal to him with medieval literature verbiage.

Ha. I’m not illiterate, you arrogant toad.

“I thought you were done riding in cars with boys?” Calais says it with that smooth, conceited tone of his. Music is playing inside the limo, something resembling 80’s synth. Absurd!

Liquid courage is making Kara bold. “I mean, hasn’t it been a long…long…looong time since you were just a boy?”

The other men in the limo all hoot at that. “Oooh…she’s got a mouth on her! She just called you old! Guessshe’snot worried about you getting it up, Nicholas.”

His face hardens, lips tightening as he shoots an accusing look at the other companions further inside.

Someone closer to the front of the limo, where Kara can’t see inside from her angle, squawks loudly, “Who is this wench? I have to see, move,move, ladies get off my lap. I might be making a trade here.”

Charming. Is she a playing card to be acquired?

A man appears in the opening of the door, peering around to see her standing just a few feet away. He squints at her, clutching a beer bottle in his hand. His eyes scan her, head to toe. Kara honestly can’t tell if he likes what he sees. Eventually, he drawls, “Look at you. Even the tits look real.”

Kara’s mouth drops open and her palm itches to connect with his face. What is he, the gatekeeper? “The titsarereal!”

Sitting in the rear, Calais idly drinks from a large glass he’s just filled, clear with bubbles and ice.Hello, Mr. Gin and Tonic, we meet again.“She’s not here for you.”

The extremely blonde man staring at Kara looks over his shoulder at Calais and says, “Is that so?” He turns back to Kara and waves her in. “That’s a shame. Whatever. Welcome, tramp!”

Blondie is stunning, really, with vivid green eyes and a big drunk grin. It sounds cheesy, even in Kara’s head, but his gaze almost burns up the air in her lungs. He’d made her breath catch when he appeared in the open door, unusual for her. His bright peridot eyes are nearly eaten by yawning black pupils, strangely attractive. Hot, even. The effect likely coming from drugs he’s already done.

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