“Hey!”
Violet was in the same frame of mind, he mused, judging by what she’d been wearing as she walked out the door. In all honesty, he’d have been happy leaving a couple days ago and missing the party altogether, but he couldn’t cut her remaining time with her friends short.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder, spinning him around mid-step. It released him with a shove, almost knocking him on his ass, and he felt his hackles rise at the unprovoked attack. “What the fuck?”
The assailant wasn’t quite as tall as Reaux, but he was dressed to flaunt his wealth in an immaculate black tie ensemble that screamedmoney, money, money!If it was an intimidation tactic, it failed miserably—just because Reaux didn’t adorn himself in the finest silks and wear his bank account for all to see did not mean he didn’t recognize those who did for what they were.
Dark brown, almost mahogany colored hair, was cut in what should have been a neat and tidy style fit for the boardroom, but it seemed the guy had run his hands through it enough times to make it stand up in awkward tufts.
Reaux assumed the guy was usually clean-shaven; his beard was short, unkempt, definitely not groomed to upper echelon standards. It was the kind of scruff a man obtained during a three-day bender.
It was his eyes, however, that caught Reaux’s full attention. Under other circumstances, he guessed the man’s honey-brown irises were warm, friendly, maybe even as soft as a damn puppy dog’s if he wanted to be fanciful.
Right now, they were murderous.
Hard, confrontational, distinctlyunfriendly.
“Pretty sure violence against another member is prohibited,” Reaux drawled, his accent becoming more pronounced as it tended to do when his temper was provoked. Rolling his shoulders, he braced for whatever came next. “What the hell is your problem?”
“It’s your fault,” the guy hissed. “It’s all your fault.”
“Most shit comes back on me even when it’s not. I don’t know you, buddy, but take your issue and walk away.” Hoping to solve it himself, Reaux took a step around the idiot.
“Why you? Why you and not me?”
Frustrated, Reaux threw his hands in the air. “What are we talking about here? Why do you have a screw loose and I do not? The universe is a mystery; only it knows the answers to baffling questions.”
“Mistress Violet.” Spittle flew from the man’s snarling mouth. “Iproposed. Igot her a ring.I’msupposed to spend the rest of my life with her. She’s meant to bemine.”
Yes, that was definitely not his problem, Reaux thought, even as he sympathized with the guy. Loving Violet was the greatest joy one could have; when that love wasn’t reciprocated, it was unfathomably painful.
How would he have felt if she’d turned him down and gotten engaged to another man?
Dejected, apoplectic… the mirror image of the guy in front of him.
Keeping that in mind, he held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “Look—shit, what’s your name?”
“Adrian.”
“Adrian, right. I really wish I could tell you something that would make you feel better, but I’m familiar with heartbreak. There isn’t an instant cure. I could let you beat the hell out of me, but that’s not going to be a good evening for either of us.” Reaux sighed, rubbing his jaw. “Violet is her own woman; I spent ten years learning that, another two missing it, and the last month admiring it. Truth is, turning you down wasn’t a reflection of you. Can’t offer your heart to someone when it belongs to another.”
Adrian bristled. “Don’t try to placate me.”
“Won’t waste my breath. It’s a cold night, Adrian, and I’ve things to do. If you want to fight, let’s go. If you want to move past this, come with me inside and have a drink. If neither of those appeal to you, it’s time to go our separate ways. As much as it hurts, Violet chose her path.”
The older man sneered, his arm lifting with one hand fisted. He seemed to struggle with his temper, restraining what was likely vicious vitriol in verbal form, then dropped his fist. “You’ll never give her the life I offered. The pair of you deserve each other.”
Ah, not love then, but infatuation, Reaux realized as his sympathy dried up. He watched the not-so distinguished gentleman stalk away down the path, muttering nasty sentiments, and wondered if Violet knew what kind of man she’d almost saddled herself with; because, make no mistake, Adrian was not truly submissive and, if he was a Dom in sheep’s clothing, Reaux pitied the poor soul who trusted him.
Real heartbreak should not erase pride or dignity.
Not in public, anyway.
Shaking his head, Reaux waited until the disgruntled client was out of sight before continuing onward. The unpleasantinterlude wasn’t going to ruin his night unless Adrian’s path crossed his again before morning.
A small clowder of cat-costumed subs bolted up the clubhouse steps ahead of him, giggling and meowing at each other as they rushed to get out of the cold. He followed an elegant couple inside, cocking his head as he tried to figure out if they were aiming forDownton Abbeyvibes or a fancy version of1923.
Chilled muscles relaxed in the warmth; music and laughter assaulted his ears.
