Call Me Cat (Call Me Cat Trilogy #1)(14)

His brow furrowed in concern. "Nothing too awful I hope?"

Mrs. Beaumont put a hand on my arm. "Poor dear came home to her apartment broken into. But we'll sort it all out, won't we dear?"

I nodded. "Yes. Thank you for your help." But you don't have to go around telling people.

Ash's face darkened. "Were you hurt? Are you alright?"

The intensity of his gaze frightened me, but no one else seemed to notice. Mrs. Beaumont excused herself to greet more guests, taking Bridgette with her because "there's someone here who wants to meet you, dear," leaving me stuck with Ash and an overwhelming urge to cry, which pissed me off.

We stood by the staircase, the hall around us buzzing with the comings and goings of guests dressed in their finest. Servers in jackets with long coattails carried polished silver trays filled with hors d'oeuvres and bubbling glasses of champagne. My stomach rumbled loud enough for Ash to hear, and I realized I hadn't eaten all day.

"I wasn't hurt," I said, after far too long a pause. "My cat was, though." I shuddered, remembering the way Crackhead hung from the wall, his blood splattered everywhere.

Ash clenched his jaw as if he wanted to say something, but instead held out his arm. "Would you care to join me?"

With no ready excuse to take my leave, I took his arm, his substantial muscles bulging under the expensive tux jacket. He covered my hand with his, burning away my chill with his body heat and making me feel safe for a moment.

"I'm surprised you wanted to come to a party tonight, given how your day has gone," he said, leaning down so I could hear him.

"We didn't know about the party until we got here." I gestured to my dress. "Bridgette dressed me like a doll and dragged me down."

Ash laughed again, though I failed to see what was so funny. "You're a refreshing woman, Catelyn Travis. So how do you and Bridgette know each other?"

Knowing a conversation about higher education would bring on a repeat argument, one he'd already had with Cat, I pulled away, nearly stumbling on my—Bridgette's—dress and shoes. "I should go find Bridgette, see if she needs rescuing from her mother."

His eyes flickered to Bridgette, surrounded by handsome men laughing. "I don't think your friend needs any rescuing. She looks like she's enjoying herself. You might want to try that."

I flashed a scowl at him. "I'm not really in the mood for enjoyment, after today, if you'll excuse me."

I stormed away, a fool for overreacting, but needing to escape the heady intoxicating scent of his cologne, the feel of him close to me. Getting involved with him would be dangerous on so many levels, and I had enough danger in my life. I didn't need more.

The patio was empty, likely due to the freezing cold evening, but I didn't care. I relished the quiet, inhaling the clean, cool air. By day, the view overlooked mountains and hills and trees, now all covered in snow. By night, the sky filled with stars that didn't have to compete with streetlights and cars and city distractions, but commanded all attention.

I was hugging myself to stay warm, lost in thoughts, when someone cleared their throat and I turned, startled.

A handsome man with familiar eyes smiled at me. "I'm Jonathan Davenport. The First, if it matters. But I go by Jon."

"Davenport?" He looked nothing like Ash, who was dark and smoldering to this man's blond and boy-next-door look, though they couldn't have been too far apart in age and had similar body builds—tall and muscular.

"Ash's younger brother. I saw you talking to him earlier, then you stormed out here. I assume my brother's renowned lack of tact upset you in some way. I came to apologize on behalf of my family."

There was a lot of apologizing for other people going around tonight. I nearly lashed out at him, but he seemed so sincere I pulled in my claws.

He offered me a glass of champagne and I took it, sipping slowly. Even this amount of alcohol could f*ck me up on an empty stomach. "No need to apologize," I said.

Jon leaned against the railing, and we both gazed at the stars while sipping our champagne and not talking for a few moments. I didn't mind the quiet, but other people often got restless with too much of it. Jon was no exception. He turned to me, his glass empty, though mine was nearly full.

"I haven't seen you at any of the other events around here. Are you new to the area?" He meant the Boston blue blood events, of course.

I shook my head. "I grew up here. I'm a friend of Bridgette's."

The conversation stalled, neither of us knowing quite what to say. When I shivered, he offered me his coat, but I declined.

My silence had been ruined, and my stomach rumbled once again, reminding me I needed to eat. "I think I'm going to head back in, Jon. Thank you for the drink. And the company."

He smiled and opened the patio door for me. "Ladies first."

I didn't want to be constantly aware of Ash, but it seemed my body had other ideas. The moment we walked back in to the ballroom, I felt his eyes zero in on me. When he saw Jon, he frowned and began walking toward us.

Jon noticed and grinned. "My brother doesn't like competition."

I bristled at that. "I'm not a bone for you two to fight over," I told him through clenched teeth. Men and their stupidity.

"Of course not, I didn't mean it that way."