Mark.
“Why are you here?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Because you want me here.” Mark’s green eyes glimmer. I take a second to study him from my hostile stance. Could he be any hotter? The black tuxedo looks as though it were cut specifically for him. His broad shoulders are wide as he fills every inch of this space we’re in. His hair is swept back but still has that almost messy look. The tux cuts his waist, giving him a large and powerful appearance. As I make my way back to his face the amusement is plain as day.
“Admit it,” he goads me.
I lean in close, inhaling his salt and fresh air scent. “Never.”
He chuckles while he pulls me against his chest. “One day, princess. One day.”
Mark steps back, but his hand stays on my back. It feels . . . natural. As though we’ve been casually touching our entire lives. Anyone who knows me is aware I don’t like my personal space invaded. Even my mother respects that. Mark, though, doesn’t seem to notice or care. We walk toward the bar, where Kristy is still vying for Dominic’s attention. My brother lifts his gaze to me, and his eyes practically fall out of their sockets.
“Mark Dixon, this is my brother Dominic Erickson.”
I swipe a flute off the bar and drain half of it.
“Representative Erickson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Dom doesn’t miss a beat. “Seems I’m more popular than I knew.” He gives a short laugh. “Are you a reporter, Mr. Dixon?”
“Far from it.”
Dominic’s brow rises. “Good to know. How is it you know my sister?”
“Stop talking like an idiot.” I slap Dom’s chest to get him to loosen up. As soon as he thinks there’s press or someone watching, he slips into being a tool.
He pinches the underside of my arm and I squeak. “Oww! Asshole.”
“It’s called proper English. God forbid I sound intelligent. Now, where did you guys meet?”
“Mark and I met over a year ago, through a mutual friend,” I explain.
Dominic studies me. “It’s the first I’ve heard his name.”
I cock my head to the side and refrain from sticking my tongue out at him. He makes me behave like a child. “You don’t know everything.”
“Obviously, I didn’t know you had friends,” Dominic jokes.
“I’m her friend.” Kristy smiles, her hand extended to Mark. “Kristy Tubb, Charlie’s oldest friend.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Which means I have the most dirt.”
“Really?” Mark smiles.
“Oh, yeah. Don’t you know the best friend is the first place you go?”
He laughs. “Good to know.”
I drain the remnants of my glass, and try to get every last drop. I would lick the glass if it were socially acceptable. I need to search for someone with a tray—preferably with hard liquor.
Mark smiles and then glides his hand to my shoulder. He tugs me against his side. “Seems you need another drink, huh?”
“Excuse us, please,” I say. Dominic gives me a questioning look while Kristy looks as if she’s ready to start shopping for bridesmaid dresses.
I’ve never been seen in public with a man. I don’t do personal touching, yet here Mark is, breaking all my rules. It damn well needs to stop.
My feet travel quickly, but I hear him behind me. We exit the ballroom, but then I turn abruptly and let out a heavy breath. “Why are you here?”
Mark stands with his hands in his pockets, unaffected by my anger. “Since you probably know my social life I felt it was only fair that I have a bit of a leg up, too.”
“You think this is a damn game?”
“No.” He removes his hands and steps forward. “I think you don’t know how to have a partner. I also haven’t heard from you in two weeks, after several phone calls. All I got was a damn e-mail saying you’d be in touch. We were followed by someone, or did you forget that? I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I don’t need your protection.”
His eyes bore into me. “The hell you don’t.”
This guy must have the biggest
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