“Thank you.” My tone was taut, but neither man seemed to notice or care.

“Tom.” Petrov gave my brother’s hand a hearty shake. “I’m pleased you came.”

“Likewise. This is Chardonnay.”

Petrov’s slight brow raise almost made me smile. “A pleasure.”

Tom pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Sorry, I have to take this call. Come with me, babe?”

He stepped away, taking Chardonnay with him, and I glared at his back. The liar. He hadn’t received a call. He’d ditched me with the man like a sacrificial lamb.

“Tell me more about yourself,” Petrov said, resting his forearms on the table. “You are twenty-five, aren’t you?”

I shivered. Why did he know my age? “Yes, I am.”

I looked around for an escape route. Much as I disliked him, we had an important working relationship that was currently more valuable to Lennox Securities than it was to Petrov’s firm, so I couldn’t afford to offend him by being rude. However unhappy I was with Tom, I didn’t want to make things worse for the company. “What would you like to know?”

He licked his lips like a hungry dog. “I’ve heard you like yoga. Have you been practicing it for long?”

Years of training taught me to keep a straight face, but I was shocked by the question. Who’d told him that? It wasn’t as though I kept it secret, but I spoke to few people outside of work.

“My friend Sage teaches it. She started making videos a few years ago, and I was her first student. I’m nowhere near as skilled as she is, but I’m passably good.”

“I’m sure you’re better than passable.” He caressed my bare upper arm, and my skin crawled in response. “In fact, I suspect you’re something of a prize.”

Chapter Thirteen

Ronan

The moment I entered the gala, I knew she was here. I stood near the entrance and observed the people gathered. Finally, my gaze snagged on her, tucked into an upstairs corner with another man.

My eyes narrowed. Where was Tom? The man touched her, and I scowled.

She was beautiful tonight in a demure gown of the palest pink. Combined with the braid along her crown, it made her appear regal. Like a princess who’d deigned to grace us with her presence. Funny, because that’s how I’d always thought of her. As a princess. Untouchable. But I longed to touch her anyway.

I studied her date, and my eyebrows shot up. The man was much older than her, with silver hair and a bulldog face. He was eying her as though she were dinner. Meanwhile, she edged away. Subtly, of course, because Willow Lennox was the epitome of good manners—to everyone other than him. Her eyes flicked around as though she was trying to figure out how to make a clean break from him.

Not okay.

Couldn’t he tell she didn’t want his hands on her? Or did he not care?

Probably the latter. Men who attended galas like this tended to be entitled asses. But I didn’t have to stand by and watch some jerk make her uncomfortable. I surveyed the floor once more, searching for Tom, and found him standing by the bar with a statuesque blonde. He wore a smug, self-satisfied smirk. I wanted to wipe it from his face. My intuition told me he’d set Willow up and forced her into a one-on-one conversation with a man she couldn’t be less interested in.