Page 108 of Diamond Angel

Finally, she blinks and remembers that I’m here with her. “Yes? What?”

I lean forward and plant my elbows on the table. “Why did you ask me to be here?”

Celine lofts a brow. “I thought it would be nice for you to get involved, have a project. A potential job, even. Waitressing was all well and good, but you’re home now. You need a real profession.”

“When did you become such a snob?”

One eyebrow comes down, but the other goes up. “Maybe I was always a snob.”

“Bullshit.”

She scrunches up her nose, the same way that I used to when Adam was in the terrible twos stage and threw tantrums over his banana breaking in half or having the wrong pajamas on for bedtime. “I thought it would be fun for us to do something together.”

“Nope. Try again.”

Her nostrils flare. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Maybe I was always difficult.”

Celine rolls her eyes. “No, but you were always annoying when you wanted to be. Apparently, that hasn’t changed.”

“Oh,touché,” I drawl sarcastically. “Nice burn.”

Her eyebrows flatten. “Will you stop acting like a brat?”

“I will, just as soon as you stop lying to me about why I’m here,” I retort. “Or, better yet, whyhe’shere.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Shall I take a guess, then?” My mouth curves into a mischievous smile. “Because I think I’m here to serve as a buffer between you and Hottie Saint Handsome in there.”

Celine’s cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink, but she manages to keep her cool. “A buffer?” she repeats prettily.Tooprettily, in my opinion. “Ashton and I get along fine. We don’t need a buffer.”

“Not that kind of buffer,” I explain with a slow shake of my head. Oh yeah, I’m onto her. “Not the kind of buffer between two people who hate each other. I’m talking about the kind of buffer that you need to keep from ripping each other’s clothes off.”

The delicate shade of pink turns into an aggressive red. It spreads right over her chest, too, which is a dead giveaway that I’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Ding, ding, ding!” I proclaim with teasing triumph. “I think we have a winner!”

“For God’s sake,” she snaps, turning toward the foyer. “Stop talking so damn loud!”

“Scared Ashton will hear?”

“No, I’m scared thestaffwill hear. Not to mention Ilarion. Or have you forgotten about him?”

“Meaning what—you’d never cheat on him?”

“No, I would not.” She’s coiling up as though she’s getting ready to throw a punch. I would have had nothing to worry about with the old Celine. But this one? Yeah, she has the potential to go Bratva on my ass.

I lean back. “Maybe you should.”

She blinks at me a few times, her mouth half-parted, her eyes murky and hard to read. I see Ashton’s silhouette materialize on the inside of the glass wall. She follows my eyes and sees it, too. When she does, she takes a deep breath and shakes her head like a frustrated horse.

“Get rid of him,” she mumbles at me. “I can’t deal with this today.”

She stands from the patio table and walks away. Not back into the house, but further into the garden.

“Where are you going?” I call out to her.

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