Lalalala can’t hear you!
“What words?” I asked, feeling like I was walking into a trap.
“It’s simple,” Evan said, that deliciously deep voice wrapping around me. “Just tell me how awesome I am and how handsome, incredibly sexy, and desirable you find me.”
I leaned back, and Evan grinned, blue eyes glinting dangerously.
“No,” I told him and turned away.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward him. “Then I hope you have a helmet, because Imogen is going to detonate.”
Across the room, Imogen was berating Mika. Evan’s little sister was shrinking under her barely leashed wrath.
“You’d do that to your own little sister?”
“Sociopathic billionaire, remember? Tick tock. Imogen’s going to go nuclear any second. Things will be thrown. All those pretty flowers stamped to shreds on the ground.”
“Fine. You’re awesome and sexy. There. Go save the day.”
Evan jerked his head. “Oh no, you have to mean it. Make me feel special and wanted.”
“You just want me to feed your ego,” I seethed.
“Yes, inflate my ego. Make it big and thick,” he said, breath hot against my ear.
“You’re disgusting. And it’s not surprising you’d need your ego and other things inflated.”
“Ouch, Ivy. That is literally the opposite of what you’re supposed to be doing!” Evan said, clutching his chest.
Crack!
Imogen had picked up a glass and hurled it at a wall. Evan raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. I could not have another wedding ruined. People would talk. My whole business ran on word of mouth.
Fine. Evan wanted his ego inflated? I stepped up to him and trailed my nails along the bare skin on his neck, right above the collar of his suit.
“You are the sexiest, most handsome man I have ever seen,” I whispered in my best approximation of a sex-kitten purr, making sure my breath tickled his ear. “And yes, I was looking at that sexy, muscular body that I just wanted to push me back against the bed and fuck me until I screamed.”
“Holy shit,” Evan murmured. I stepped back, satisfied to see his eyes looking slightly dilated. “Holy hell.”
“Now who has the filthy mouth?”
“You should see what I can do with it,” he said, his smile promising… well, something that I wasn’t going to acknowledge.
“Chop chop,” I told him, clapping my hands. “Go save the day before Imogen starts throwing food.”
Evan turned on his heel and walked to the door. My stomach sank.
“Wait! Where are you going?” I asked, hurrying after him, trying to keep up with his long strides. “You’re just leaving? I should have known not to trust you, you lying sack of—”
Evan flung the ornate double doors open. “Come on in ladies!” he announced, welcoming a stream of well-dressed, beautiful women into the room.
Imogen, who had been screaming at the hotel staff member cleaning up the glass she’d thrown, immediately stopped her tirade. “Friends of yours, Evan?” she called hopefully.
“Of course, Imogen, from the magazine. You don’t mind that I invited them, do you? I was thinking of having them write a piece on the event.”
“Not at all!” she gushed.
“Don’t tell Imogen,” Evan whispered in my ear, his breath hot on my neck. “But they’re actually seat fillers. Expensive ones, of course—can’t bring just anyone in here. I instructed them to all say they worked for me if asked though.”
