Page 52 of The Bad Wedding Date

Fraser blinked, quickly looking down at me with a frown on his face. If it were possible, he looked even more delicious when angry, but I couldn’t let those thoughts linger. I had a point to prove and questions to ask. I had his silence to break through.

“Well?” I pressed, walking him backwards until he came to an abrupt stop against the nearest wall and grunted out a small breath. “Speak.”

He stared at me, and it was obvious a part of him stood there before me, but another part had wandered off into a different head space. Whatever he was at war with himself over, I wished he’d share it. Fraser’s cool eyes roamed all over my face before he brought his hands up to my arms and rubbed them softly, as though we were a couple in love, hiding away in the corner of the night to steal kisses and touch one another because we couldn’t possibly go another second without doing so.

“Charlotte, I—” His attention drifted over my shoulder to something, and his eyes hardened again. I felt his chest rise and fall beneath my palms before I dared myself to follow his gaze and look behind me.

There, Tristan and Penn stood staring at the two of us.

Penn looked as smug and carefree as always, but something about Tristan had turned sour. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw ticked as he watched us. Fraser’s breathing grew heavier under my touch, and I turned back to him, carefully pressing a hand to his cheek and guiding his face back until he looked down into my eyes again. “I’m going to ask you this one last time, and I want an honest answer. What the bloody hell is going on?”

“You can’t stay here.”

“Well, you’ve changed your tune quickly.”

“If I asked you to come with me, would you?”

“Go with you, where?”

“Anywhere away from here.”

Unease settled in the pit of my belly, twisting and swirling around, and I took a step back, watching as Fraser’s hands fell by his sides and his shoulders sagged the moment I put the smallest distance between us.

“You’re starting to freak me out,” I told him.

“That’s not my intention.”

“Then whatisyour intention, Fraser?”

He sighed, reaching up to rub a hand over his perfect blond beard. “I’m sick of watching these arseholes take advantage of you, okay? I was wrong to ask you to come back before.”

“So, now you want to whisk me away like a real hero? You can’t make all my troubles disappear, and I don’t understand why you’d want to.”

“Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“Because! We barely know each other, and…”

“And?” He raised a brow.

“I don’t understand what’s in it for you.”

He took a step towards me, forcing me to look up at his towering form. “Do you have any idea how utterly infuriating you are?”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“Maybe not, but let me be the first person to tell you this: contrary to what you believe and what you’ve drilled into your own head for more than twenty years of your life, people don’t need to be paid or need to be owed anything to want to spend time with you, Charlotte. I don’t need or want anything from you, except you, and I’m not the kind of man who walks away without getting what he wants.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, out of words or thoughts.

“Now, I’m going to give you ten seconds to give me your permission to take your hand and walk you out of those doors.”

“And if I say no?”

“I’m going to have to do something you’re not going to like.”

I frowned, about to open my mouth to ask him what the hell he meant by that, when a quiet, “Time’s up,” slipped free from Fraser, and my whole world turned upside down.

“Don’t scream. It’ll make it worse,” he ordered, marching me towards the exit of the ballroom with me hanging over his shoulder, my arse in the air as I grunted, struggled, and tried to break free.

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