His Revenge

Chapter 5 - Scarlett

Suddenly remembering the gift bags, I thrust them toward him, hoping they would turn things around. "Here."

He tentatively takes the bags, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. "What's this?"

"Gifts. F-from me and Penelope. Who couldn't be here tonight because of a family emergency, but she wanted to make sure you still received your present." I stop myself from rambling and take a deep breath. "Anyway. Enjoy."

"I will." He starts to open it as someone calls out for him across the bar. "Uh... I should go see what that's about."

"Go, go."

He holds up the bags. "Thank you."

"No problem."

I watch him for a bit before slipping through the mass of hot and sweaty bodies until I reach the back.

I'm nearing the bathroom when someone grabs my wrists and yanks me around. I come face to face with a man I've never seen before. He's no taller than me, but the wide berth of his shoulders and massive biceps make him appear way bigger.

"I thought that was you." He says, swaying a bit as the pinkish tint of his pale cheeks darkens almost to the shade of his hair. "Out with the girls, are ya? Bullshit! You're here to meet that bastard, aren't ya?"

I try to snatch my arm from him, but his grip remains firm. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Don't act like you don't know. I know you're cheating on me!" His words come out slurred, making it even harder to understand his thick Southern accent.

"What? Cheating?! I do-"

"Stop denying it, Clara!" He moves closer and closer still until I can smell the alcohol seeping from his pores. "I've seen all the messages and half-naked photos you've sent to other men on your phone."

"Listen, my name isn't Clara. It's Scarlett. Now let me go!"

His eyes widen to epic proportions as he fights through his drunken haze to clearly see my face, but he still doesn't let go. Suddenly someone grabs his free hand and twists it back, making him drop to one knee on the cold hard floor. A pained cry escapes his twisted lips as he looks up at the man. I stifle my gasp when I realize it's Luciano.

"You heard what she said. Now let her go." The firm tone of his voice leaves no room for arguments.

"Okay, okay." He quickly releases me, and I move to stand behind Luciano.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

It takes me a second to answer as I gently massage the angry red fingerprints left on my wrist. "Yes."

"You heard her. She's fine. Now let me go." The man says while trying to pry Luciano's fingers from his arm.

With his lips twisted in a sneer, Luciano lets him go. "Get out of here!"

The man scrambles to his feet and rushes down the hallway. When he disappears around the corner, I turn to Luciano. "Ugh, I can't believe this is the second time you've come to my rescue. Like I'm some damsel in distress or something."

Even though I pretended I couldn't change my tire when we first met, that didn't mean I always wanted him to see me as some helpless being.

He chuckles shortly. "It must be fate."

I scoff. "Some fate."

A little spark of electricity passes through me as he suddenly takes my hand in his. Taken by surprise, all I can do is stare at him with my lips slightly parted as his thumb moves across my wrist in maddeningly slow strokes.

"Should we head back to the party?"

I swallow hard. "You can if you want, but I'm not. After this little incident, I'm no longer in the mood to celebrate. So I think I'll just head home."

Besides, I'd already done what I needed to do. Nothing was keeping me here.

"No. Stay. Don't let that guy ruin your night."

"I don't know. It's been a lo-"

"How about we have one drink together? And if you still want to go. I won't stop you."

I pause to contemplate it. The offer is tempting. Damn tempting. While he'd fixed my tire, we hadn't spent much time getting to know one another. It'd been all business with a bit of mindless chitchat. And after I'd driven away after thanking him, I'd been slightly disappointed.

But now, as fate would have it, another opportunity presented itself.

"Fine." I finally answer. "But just one."

He smiles and nods before gesturing for me to lead the way down the hallway. I dutifully oblige, and he falls in step beside me.

"So, how do you know Oscar?" I ask.

"He uh... came up to Flintwood, looking for financial advice, and I helped him out. For free, of course, since the problem was pretty simple."

I slowly nod, smiling. "Wait. Flintwood? Do you mean the large accounting firm in The Rook?"

"Yes, I work there."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Really?!"

"Yeah. Why? Don't I not look like an accountant?"

"No!" My eyes sweep across his face. He was handsome enough to give a few actors a run for their money. But it wasn't just his facial features that made me skeptical about his job. But his upbeat demeanor and his body. It didn't reflect that of a person sitting behind a desk for endless hours pouring over files. "At least not any accountant I've ever seen."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"You should."

A beat of silence passes between us as we continue down the hall. Just as we near the corner, I stop and whip around to face him. "Hold on. How come you didn't mention you would be here tonight?"

"Because... I wasn't sure if I was coming or not."

"And what might I ask was the determining factor that led to your decision?"

He steps closer, leans down, and whispers in my ear. "You."

My lips part in a silent gasp as I stare unblinkingly at him. Luciano moves in closer, so close I can feel his warm minty breath fanning across my lips. He gently brushes his lips against mine, and when I don't refute him, he slips his tongue inside for a deeper taste.

But before he can, loud voices carry around the corner. We break apart just as two men appear.

Shit, shit, shit!

Slightly lowering my head, my hair falls forward, hiding my blushing cheeks as I rush back to the bar. I can feel their burning stares every step of the way.

Oh, god.

What the hell had come over me?

Why didn't I push him away?

For the second time in less than a week, the alcohol I'd consumed had loosened my inhibitions and clouded my judgment. I wasn't ever drinking again. Heaven only knows what could happen a third time.

This was our second encounter, and I knew nothing about him apart from his name. But I couldn't deny he was one helluva kisser. A small part of me wants to go back and pick up where we left off. Maybe he could be the one to end my prolonged dry spell. After all, what was the harm in one night of reckless fun?

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