“Upset?” I smile with glee. “That’s evenbetter. That way he’ll have to work for it. A little chase never hurt anyone.”
I start to move around him with every intention of ending our conversation there, but he takes my arm, not hard, though his grip certainly makes it clear I’m supposed to stay right where I am.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I ask with an innocent flutter of my eyelashes.
He regards me impassively. “I assumed you knew better, Isabel.”
“It’sElle,” I correct for the second time. “And I do know better. I’m not going todatethe guy.” And then, because I can’t help but wonder how much more lighter fluid this blaze can possibly withstand, I tack on, “Or who knows, maybe I will.”
He doesn’t take the bait. Instead, a slow, knowing smile unfurls across his lips. He can see right through me. How perfectly annoying.
“What?” I challenge, continuing on as if I’m completely oblivious to the situation at hand. “You think I’ll break his heart?”
“You’re trying to provoke me.”
“Andyou’redrawing attention.”
He doesn’t move his hand. Stupid silly butterflies swarm my stomach. “Stop scowling at me and people wouldn’t be so curious about our conversation.”
I throw my head back and offer up a big fake laugh. “Ha ha ha! Cristiano, stop! You’retoofunny!”
Then immediately after, I drop the act. My pointed gaze says,There, better?
He’s smiling, obviously amused. His hand finally eases on my arm, but he lets his fingers linger on my skin—igniting tendrils of heat in my low belly—before he pulls away altogether.
He glances around my section. “How many tables do you have right now?”
“Four.” I watch helplessly as three guys claim the last vacant spot in my area. I’m now officially swamped. “Make that five.”
Cristiano reads the worry on my face. “That’s too many for a new server.”
“Annika manages six or seven tables just fine.”
“Yes, but wasn’t she here last summer?”
I lift my chin defiantly. “I can handle it. I’m not your concern.”
One cynical arched brow challenges me to see the error in that statement. Right. While he’s notpersonallyresponsible for my well-being, I am his employee, and my customer service and ability to handle this crowd directly reflect on his club and, by extension, him.
Through this exchange we’ve moved closer to each other inch by inch. I don’t know what I’m hoping to gain by going toe to toe with a man as commanding as he is. I’m already craning my neck to meet his stare. If I get any closer, our chests will touch.
I shiver at the thought.
It’s just… he’s so damn good-looking. I hate him a little for it. I hate hima lotfor thinking he needs to look after me.
We’re still looking at each other—warring, more like it—when one of the women I saw walking in Cristiano’s entourage earlier strolls up behind him and drapes a possessive arm over his shoulder.
Her red lips curl into a smile when she leans over to whisper in his ear. “Coming up, Cristiano, baby?”
Hearing her endearment for him makes my mood immediately sour. I take in her curvy figure and the sparkly silver minidress that sticks to every contour of her body. I can’t show even a hint of my true feelings about her, though, because Cristiano is watching me. I hope I look completely unbothered.
“I’ll be up in a bit,” he tells her, stepping to the side so her hand slides off him.
I don’t wait to see anything else. If she’s about to jut out her bottom lip and pout, I’d rather not see it. If she wants to drag him away, be my guest.
I whirl around and head in a different direction, content to cut around the tables and take the long way to get to the computers. When I can’t resist the urge to check over my shoulder, I find that Cristiano is still looking at me. I blush and immediately duck my head, eager to disappear into the thick crowd.
