Page 50 of My Grumpy Billionaire Protector

I grip the edges of the table and stare. “I’m the asshole? You’re the one who’s questioning my motives. Normally, when people are treated to a nice dinner, they thank you. Hell, they might even throw in a smile, but you… you’ve been giving me an attitude all night.”

“Because I’m not buying it!” Evie hisses, color rising to her cheeks. “Did you think that just because we’ve had a few nice chats and you let me talk to my family that I would forget who you work with? Or why I’m here? Because that’s not going to fucking happen.”

I run a hand over my face and expel a harsh breath. “Believe it or not, I am trying to help. You’re the one who’s making this harder than it has to be.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is the fact that I’ve been brought here and kept against my will inconvenient? You poor baby.”

A burst of irritation slices through my veins. “At least you’re comfortable and taken care of. It could be a lot worse.”

“That’s what you like to remind me of. You arrogant son of a bitch.” She moves around the table and covers the distance between us, placing a hand on my chest. In one swift move, she shoves me, and I topple back in surprise.

At the last second, I right myself, twisting at an odd angle to maintain my balance.

Evie has both of her hands on her mouth, and her eyes are as wide as saucers. “I’m—”

I hold a hand up. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

I’m more surprised by her outburst than she is, but it also fills me with a strange sense of relief.

She hasn’t given up, her inner warrior is lying dormant.

All I need to do is lure her out.

Evie’s hands fall to her sides, and she draws herself up to her full height. “Now what?”

I stand up straighter and run my hands along the front of my sweater. “How about a game of charades?”

Evie blinks and cocks her head to the side. “What?”

“Charades? You know the game where you—”

“I know what it is,” Evie interrupts with a shake of her head. “You’re being serious?”

“Why not?” I look over my shoulders at the glass doors and shrug. “We need a way to blow off steam that doesn’t involve strangling each other. Besides, if we’re going to be working together to get out of here, we need to find a healthy outlet for all of this frustration.”

And pent up sexual energy...

Evie pauses. “You do have a point.”

As soon as the table is cleared and a bottle of red wine is brought over, we begin to play. With each sip, Evie grows more and more relaxed until her dark hair is in loose waves around her shoulders and her legs are propped up on the table. Meanwhile, I stand in the middle of the veranda with my sleeves rolled up to my elbows and a warmth in the pit of my belly.

“You’re cheating.” Evie leaps to her feet and marches over to me. She squints and wags a finger in my direction. “We need a ruling.”

“There aren’t any judges around here.”

Evie peers into the darkness then back at me. “So I’ll be the judge.”

“Says who?”

Evie grins. “Says me. I’m a good judge of character.”

I snort. “Yeah, sure. That sounds like something you’d say to get your way.”

Evie harrumphs and folds her arms over her chest. “I don’t see you making a better argument.”

I smile down at her. “I don’t need to. I haven’t had as much to drink, so I should be the judge.”

“Bullshit. I saw the waiter sneak you that glass of whiskey.”

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