Bastard.

I needed to know who the guy was and what he meant to Tom. In the meantime, my gaze returned to Willow just in time to see the silver-haired man—there was something familiar about him—trail a finger down the side of her face.

Enough was enough.

I strode over to them and put a proprietary arm around her waist. Willow whipped her head up to look at me. For a moment, I thought she’d say something snarky, but when recognition hit, she relaxed. Her apparent trust in me felt good.

“Sweetheart,” I said, silently encouraging her to play along. “There you are. I thought I’d lost you.” I kissed her cheek, surprised by the gut punch of lust brought on by the simple act of brushing my lips over her silky skin. “I promised Anton Rogers I’d introduce you.” I name-dropped the richest asshole here, knowing it would bother her admirer. I turned to him but kept my gaze steely as recognition set in. He was Adrian Petrov—a big name in the corporate security industry and a former competitor of Frank’s. We’d met once or twice, but it had been in my former role, and so long ago I doubted he’d remember. “I’m Ronan King.”

Petrov met my eyes; his had no life in them. “I know who you are, Mr. King.”

Ah. So he had heard of me too. I eyed him, wondering why Willow was tolerating his presence. Perhaps Tom was trying to make an alliance with him and she was putting up with his attention for the sake of the company.

“My apologies,” I said, “but I need to steal my date away.”

“Your date?” Petrov’s brows knitted together. “I thought Willow came with Tom and his friend.”

“We agreed to meet here,” she said, shuffling closer to me. “Ronan had to work late.”

Petrov’s nostrils flared. “I do not like to be surprised.”

No, I’d bet he didn’t.

“Like I said, my apologies, but we need to go.” I whisked her away. With each step, she seemed to release more tension.

“Thank you,” she purred. “Tom shoves so-called suitable men at me every chance he gets, hoping one of them will take. It’s difficult for me to avoid his machinations without making a scene.”

I guided her into a private nook beside a statue and tried not to let her see how angry I was. “He’s twice your age and smarmy as fuck. How on earth could your brother think he’s suitable?”

She rolled her eyes. “He has money, connections, and he’s helping the business.”

I could tell she wanted to say more. I waited, hoping she would fill the silence.

She didn’t. But then, we’d both been taught by the same man, so she was probably wise to my tactics.

I studied her lovely features. Lips perfectly pink, nose delicate, eyes bright. Her bare shoulders tempted me to lean closer and inhale her scent.

“You’re his sister,” I said. “When it comes to you, money and connections shouldn’t have anything to do with it.”