But we were in public, so instead of throat-punching him, I curled my fingers underneath his lapel and gave him an adoring smile for the benefit of all the Benton Hotel employees I could feel staring at us.
"Sorry I'm late, baby. But look at you!" I pulled him down by his lapels for an affectionate andbriefpeck on the mouth before I asked with full Benton Showgirl projection,"Could you be any more handsome?"
A beat of cool amusement.I wondered if he'd just leave me hanging there, playing out this scene solo.
But then he asked, "Could you be any more beautiful?"
Unlike me, he didn't bother to project, and his voice curled into my ear like smoke—or a secret compliment intended only for me.
Though, it wasn't—it so, so wasn't.
He's just pretending. We both are, I reminded my somersaulting heart as I stepped back to let him take in my outfit.
"It's not too much?" I asked, giving him a full 360 of the evening gown that had shown up in my room right after he left. This one was just as fancy as the gold one but way bolder. Red, with a neckline that dared to plunge and a slit that stopped dangerously high up on my thigh."I totally wouldn't have pictured Agnes picking this out for me."
"That's because she didn't pick it out." Cole’s eyes roamed down my body with cool inspection. “And I was right. This dress suits you better than the one Agnes chose."
I stopped mid-twirl, an outrage spike pushing me right out of adoring fiancée mode. "So now you're picking out my clothes for me, too?"
"Yes," Cole answered without any remorse whatsoever. "Maybe you've failed to notice..."
He leaned in close for what probably appeared to the many onlookers in the lobby to be an affectionate nuzzle, but in actuality was him whispering straight in my ear, "The House likes telling you what to do."
So... the less than fifteen-minute ride to the KMA Event Center in Symphony Park was awkward as hell.
And him looking so painfully handsome in that tux didn't help matters. He also smelled ridiculously good. Like cash dipped in a smoky cologne. It was so unfair! I should have been sulking, but he basically made it impossible not to keep sneaking looks at him as he deftly navigated his Jag through the traffic on Sammy Davis Jr. Drive.
Maybe he'll be less hot?I hoped every time I snuck a peek. Butnope, he was still a chiseled-jaw 100 on a scale of 1 to 10. If anything, he got even hotter. Every. Single. Time. I. Looked.
Sadly, this poor track record didn't stop me from sneaking one more glance right after we pulled into the valet line outside the KMA. But this time, I found him watching me with a cool smirk.
“Like what you see?”
“No!" I protested—only to hang my head and admit, “Actually, yes.”
It seemed too childish to deny what I’d been caught doing, but I insisted, “It really doesn’t matter. You’re hot. Really freaking handsome. So what? I’m sure you get told that all the time.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you always sound so unhappy when you compliment people on their looks?”
“No, I’m aterrificcompliment-giver. It usually makes me happy to give credit where credit is due.”
“But not in my case. Hmm.” His words poked at me. Like one of Mary's hasty pin-up jobs when we had wardrobe malfunctions mid-show. "I wonder what makes me different."
“Do you always make it this hard for people to give you compliments and just be done with it?” I sighed and turned to watch all the beautifully dressed people walking into the KMA, an event space that looked like a deconstructed building melting and collapsing in on itself. Which happened to be exactly how I felt at the moment.
But I could still feel Cole's smirking green gaze. “Am I making your life harder, Sunny?”
“I think you know exactly what you’re doing,” I muttered as he pulled up to the valet who would be taking the car.
Relief flooded through me at the thought of no longer having to share a small and intimate space with him.
But that feeling didn’t last long. After giving the valet his keys, instead of letting another attendant open my door, Cole called out, "I got it" and jogged around to my side of the car.
My heart somersaulted again when he opened the door for me. So, this was what it felt like to have someone who looked like the coldest version of Prince Charming treat you gallantly and offer you his hand.
I hesitated. Cole might look like a prince, but I knew I was dealing with a ruthless hawk.
Offering me his claw.
