Page 64 of Ruthless Mr. Ricco
I’m not a Prescott.I’m a lawyer.
He wants her fuming.
Although she smiles, disdain shines from her eyes.
“Unfortunately, yes.Although I won’t embarrass your brother by climbing onto the table tonight, I must find another escapeagain.Excuse me,” she says.
Her icy tone fills me with awe.I cannot recall the last time someone spoke so harshly to my brother, and no one has ever done so on my behalf.
She stands.I rise with her.
“Thank our classmates for me.I hope the next time we meet you’ll have learned some manners,” she says.
“Manners?I—”
“Goodbye, Angelo,” I interrupt.
Already with her back to him, Brook slips her hand into the crook of my elbow.I lead her away, happy to assist in her escape again even though having her in my arms was way more fun.
I bend my head and murmur for her ears alone, “No table.No lap.No kiss.Please tell me this escape at least includes your sharp little teeth later.”
A wicked smirk brightens her expression.
“We’ll see.I wasn’t in my right mind last time,” she says.
I growl and wrap my arm behind her back to curl my fingers into her waist.
“Don’t pretend you weren’t clawing my back to shreds less than two hours ago,” I hiss.
“Oh, I totally was, but that doesn’t guarantee I’ll—”
She jerks to a halt.Her eyes widen.
I follow her gaze and bite back a curse.
Chad Prescott, the man who abandoned Brook and her sick mother, meanders through the crowd as though he’s the most important person in the room.A woman with blonde hair and more plastic body parts than real ones clings to his arm and beams at everyone who glances their way.
I glimpse a vaguely familiar face in the crowd behind them, but Brook’s ragged breathing steals my attention.
I urge her forward and veer away from her father toward the balcony.The chilly evening air washes over my face, highlighting how much my suit holds in my body heat.I lead my little rabbit to a section of railing off to the side with the least amount of lighting.When she rubs her naked arms, I shrug out of my coat and drape it over her shoulders.
An appreciative smile ghosts across her lips but doesn’t breach the turmoil in her eyes.I weave my fingers through hers and prop my forearms on the railing.
She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths before turning her face toward mine.
“I’m okay, truly.I knew I might see him here, but…” she shrugs.
“We can leave right now,” I say.
She gnaws on the inside of her lip for a moment as she considers but ultimately shakes her head.
“Maybe he’ll freak out and make a mistake if he realizes I’m with you,” she says.
“We don’t want to reveal our intentions too early, though,” I argue.
She quirks a brow.
“Ourintentions?”she asks.
