Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(71)

Crap. He’d noticed.

She was quiet on the elevator ride up to Ian’s penthouse. The intoxicating effect of the champagne was waning, and she suddenly felt the full weight of her foolish behavior that evening. Ian was polite but quiet—perhaps furious with her, it was always hard to tell with his stoic expression—while LaGrange continued on with his pointless banter, apparently clueless as to Ian’s thundercloud mood and Francesca’s flattened, suddenly regretful one.

“I’ll just leave you two to finish your business,” Francesca said when they reached the entry to the penthouse. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Xander.”

LaGrange took her hand and held it between both of his. “No, you must come with us for a nightcap. I insist.”

“I insist I can’t,” she said, her manner friendly but equally firm. “I have a big day tomorrow at school. Good night,” she said, edging in the direction of Ian’s bedroom suite. She suddenly was wild to get out of this dress.

“But no, that’s—”

“Wait for me,” Ian said to her in his crisp British accent and authoritarian tone, cutting off LaGrange’s protests with rapier precision.

Another stab of rebellion went through her when she saw the glint in his eyes. How dare he talk so imperiously to her in front of others? Her chin went up, but then she recalled how giddily she’d behaved at the restaurant. How foolishly. She glanced at an insulted-looking LaGrange. Was he offended for Francesca, or was he pricked by the way Ian had just cut him off? She nodded to Ian once and turned down the hallway, leaving them. A rush of trepidation went through her.

She’d wanted to tweak Ian for his heavy-handedness earlier, but perhaps she’d gone too far?

He likely was going to be furious at her silly, flirtatious behavior all night. But hadn’t he deserved it? she thought as she nervously checked her messages on her phone once she reached Ian’s suite. She couldn’t have him constantly trying to mastermind her life.

She stood in Ian’s bathroom a moment later and began to remove the beautiful diamond hairpins, trying to convince herself she’d been right to defy him in her subtle fashion. The way he’d ignored her input about the clothing purchase . . . taking her to dinner where he apparently expected her to charm and beguile his prey with her sexuality. How dare he objectify her in that way?

Well, he’d know better than to use me in that way in the future, she thought with anxious contempt as her hair spilled down her back and she reached to unzip the dress.

She froze when she heard a loud thumping sound in the far distance. What in the world had that been? She hesitated, unsure if she should go check on Ian. It sounded like someone had just hit the floor very hard.

Her heart leapt into her throat a moment later when she heard the door to Ian’s suite open and close with a brisk bang, then the unmistakable sound of the lock clicking.

She glanced sideways and saw Ian through the open bathroom door.

“Leave the dress on,” he said, his voice like frozen steel. She realized her hands were still at her back in preparation to unzip the dress. “Come here.”

His jacket was unbuttoned, his muscles tense, his expression rigid. Her gaze dropped to the gleam of his belt buckle and the stark evidence of his virility beneath it. Her heart started to throb against her breastbone.

“Is Xander already gone?” she asked as she left the bathroom, her voice sounding tremulous to her own ears.

“Yes. For good.”

She paused a few feet away from him. “What do you mean ‘for good’? You mean because he’s sold you his company, you won’t be seeing him anymore?”

“No. Because I told him to take his company and shove it up his ass.”

She blinked, thinking for a second she’d misunderstood him saying something so crass in his crisp, accented voice. Her eyes widened when she noticed the feral gleam in his eyes.

“Ian . . . you didn’t . . . but you wanted that software for your company so much, you’ve been working so hard on this deal.” Dread sank in her belly like a weight. “Oh no. You didn’t tell Xander LaGrange to shove it because of the way I acted tonight, did you?”

“I told Xander LaGrange to shove it and threw him face-first on the elevator just now because I can’t stand that bloody bastard,” Ian grated out through a clenched jaw as he approached her. She looked up and saw the fury and heat in his eyes. She almost backed up, he looked so fierce, but he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “And also because he had the balls to ask for one additional item before he signed.”

“What?”

“You.” He ignored her shocked gasp. “He wasn’t entirely selfish. He said I could watch while he sealed the deal in your *.”

She gasped.

“His words, Francesca,” he bit out. “Not mine.”

She stared in disbelief and rising anxiety. She couldn’t believe Xander LaGrange was such a loathsome slimeball. Yet . . . if she hadn’t behaved so flirtatiously tonight, trying to defy Ian, Xander wouldn’t have done what he’d done. Ian would have his deal. Tears smarted in her eyes.

Oh, no. She’d completely ruined things for him. He may have deserved a little tormenting for his relentlessly arrogant behavior, but she’d never intended this.

“Ian, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean . . . surely you don’t think I meant—”