Sasha’s face was a mask of shock. She retreated behind me.
“I think you’re making a mistake, buddy,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Naw…no mistake, that’s my pretty Gingerbread Girl alright,” he swayed and reached around me, clearly too drunk to realize just how big a blunder he was making. “Babe! C’mon…we never had a chance to finish what we started.”
“I said that you are mistaken,” I bit out, each word clearly enunciated. He continued to ignore me until I pressed my palm against the front of his shirt. He looked down, then turned surly eyes on me.
“Get yer hands off,” he snarled. “That’s my girl!”
Was he fucking kidding? How drunk was this guy?
“No. That’smygirl,” I said, menace coloring my voice. I had his attention now and again the crowd was hushed as he dropped his wineglass and balled his fists, shifting from foot to foot on his toes. The fucker might be out of shape and drunk as a skunk, but it was pretty clear he was an old brawler. Probably had his share of bar fights beneath his belt.
“Bring it, pretty boy,” he sneered, then swung a roundhouse at my head. Bad move. I ducked, swung low, aimed a fist at his soft gut, and as he buckled forward, caught him beneath the chin with a blistering uppercut. The man dropped like a stone.Behind me, Sasha gave a sharp scream. I turned to her.
“Are you okay?” I asked. She had her hands over her face, eyes huge. She nodded silently. “Get your purse,” I instructed. “We’re getting out of here.” The maître d’ was fluttering around us in a state.
“Monsieur, oh, monsieur, I am so very sorry!” His face was aghast. He looked down at the man on the floor as if he was something someone had scraped from the bottom of their shoe. “Your meal…it is on the house, of course,” he babbled.
I shook my head. “I won’t hear of it,” I replied. “My office will cover it. And his tab too.” I tilted my chin to the man who still hadn’t started to move. “But I think it’s time to head home.”
“Of course, of course,” the man was still babbling. “Pardon!Excusez-moi!” he clapped briskly, clearing a swathe through the cluster of people who’d suddenly appeared from everywhere. I strode behind him, pausing as we reached the front door. As it swung open, the insane crush of awaiting press photographers almost burst through the doors.
Jesus. How the hell did they get here so fast?And then it occurred to me that the supposedly “discrete” maître d’ had probably tipped them off. Obviously, he could have had no idea about the brawl, but the proposal was something his greedy little media-hungry brain would have latched onto like a leech. I was hardly surprised – I’d almost been counting on it. But the drunken idiot had been a fly in the ointment I hadn’t anticipated. And I should have.
Fuck.
I’d gone to great lengths to find a suitable candidate to play my fiancée whose profile wouldn’t have made any blips on the radar. Picking a call girl came with its risks. But it had been a risk I’d taken when I hired her in the first place. It was my own fucking fault.
Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life?
Chapter 14
Sasha Ramirez
Iducked my head in horror as the crowd outside started screaming questions at us. I’d never seen so many flashing lights. For a second, I was blinded.
Oh my God! What the hell is going on?
“Prince! Prince!” someone was yelling right in my face.Rightin my freaking face! “Is it true? Did you just propose to Miss Ramirez?” I could feel myself shrinking back. Prince tucked me into his side and raised a forearm in front of us, shoving the shouting man away.
“Back off!” he snarled, and the paparazzo’s eyes widened in alarm. He stepped away abruptly and Prince held me close against him, cradling me against his ribs. I molded to the strength of him. “Give us some room,” he demanded, his voice deep and resonant. I could feel it rumbling beneath my cheek and felt an instinctive urge to hide against him. These people…my God!
A small circle had formed around us, and he took charge of it.
“Yes, Sasha Ramirez and I have announced our engagement this evening,” he said clearly. He was stroking my hair soothingly and for a second, it was as if we were a regular couple. “I asked her to be my bride, and she honored me by agreeing.”
He threaded his fingers through mine and someone yelled, “Show us the ring, Sash!” Prince was lifting my arm to flash the giant stone around for all to see. There was an excited smattering of comments.
“Have you set the date?” someone called.
“Isn’t this a bit sudden?” someone else asked.
“How did you meet, Miss Ramirez? Was it love at first sight?” came another.
“What does Angelique Delavigne have to say about this?” a woman near us shouted, and I felt him stiffen.
“My office will make a public statement in the morning, along with the announcement of Miss Ramirez’s new contract with Ardmore Glamor Curls,” Prince interrupted. “I hope you will respect our privacy and allow us to return home in peace.” There was another clamor of questions, and then I saw the group parting in front of us and a burly figure barreled through. I heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of Horatio, dressed in black, his cap pulled low.
