Page 8 of Dax
I love the way he only has eyes for me.
All the women in the room stare at us as we walk around admiring the art hanging on the walls.
It’s been absolutely ages since I’ve been to an art show, and, with a little help from the free wine, as well as the excellent company, I feel like I’m in heaven.
Dax listens patiently as I talk about each piece. He gives his opinions on how they make him feel, and I’m surprised by his insight and his depth of feeling.
He may come off as a big, rugged alpha, but the more I get to know him, the more I realize there’s layers to his personality… and I can’t wait to keep on peeling them back.
“I need to powder my nose,” I say graciously. “Mind holding my drink?”
“Don’t be too long,” he growls into my ear. "I hate it when you're not close."
He takes my drink from my hand and kisses my cheek. I sashay across the room in the direction of the restrooms. Fully aware that he’s probably watching my ass wiggle from side to side every step of the way.
The thought of it turns me on so much it’s almost too much to handle.
“You’re so lucky!” A woman next to me at the mirror says after I've finished relieving myself.
I’m standing in front of the mirror reapplying my lipstick and making sure my hair is still looking good.
At first, I don’t realize she’s even talking to me, but when I turn my head I notice there isn’t anyone else in the room.
“Me?” I ask, wondering what in the hell this size-0 babe could possibly be talking about.
“Oh my God.” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, even though we’re alone. “Dax Carlton! He’s, like, the most eligible man in town. How on earth did you manage it?”
“Dax Carlton?” The words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. I barely even recognize the thinly veiled insult.
“You mean…theDax Carlton?” I ask. “As in, the billionaire Carlton family? The real estate developers?”
She lets out a mirthless laugh and looks at me like I must be crazy, but I don’t have any time for her high school bitchyness.
Instead, I turn on my heel and storm out the room. Grabbing a glass of wine from a passing server, I head straight for Dax like a heat-seeking missile locked onto its target.
“There you are,” he says, but before he can say another word I throw my drink in his face.
“You lying, no-good, son-of-a-bitch!” I yell, not caring whether I’m making a scene or not. “You’re Dax Carlton! You’re the people buying up all the land! You’re the guy who’s making my life a living hell!”
“I can explain.” He tries to reach for my arm but I yank it free. I’m so angry I feel like slapping him across the face. But the thought of touching him suddenly makes me sick.
“I bet you can,” I sneer. “But I’m not listening. For all I care you can stick your explanation up that perfect, gorgeous ass of yours… I never want to see you again… you’re dead to me.”
6
Dax
It’s been a week since the art show and I haven’t stopped thinking about Kate for one minute.
Seeing the look on her face as she realized who I am broke my heart.
Every day since I’ve been working my ass off to make things right, and I’ve finally got all the pieces put together.
“Hello?” I call out.
I’m at Prints Charming, Kate’s print shop, and from the looks of it, they’re getting ready to leave.
Piles of boxes are carefully arranged around the outside of the room. The walls are totally bare. I can’t believe it’s my family who's done this to her.
