"You seem to like it." he said smugly.
Naomi’s eyes widened. "I do!" Her soul left again.
Dorian’s eyebrow lifted. Naomi’s face went hot.
"I mean, for goodness’ sake, I don’t!"
He narrowed his eyes. She was lying. Possibly the worst liar he had encountered outside a courtroom.
"You cannot just kiss me whenever I’m talking."
His eyes stayed on hers. "What’s your fiancé’s name?"
"Uhn?" Naomi answered like she was still floating somewhere outside her own body.
"Your fiancé. His name?"
Right.
The man she was supposedly engaged to.
"Uhmm... uh..." Her brain scrambled for something useful.
Anything.
An initial would have been nice.
Nothing came.
Because the humiliating truth was that she had no fucking idea. She had not even met the man. Her uncle had handled everything.
All Naomi knew was that he was wealthy, willing to marry her, and his family had agreed to clear most of the debt choking the life out of her.
"None of your business."
Dorian gave her a long look. "You are lying."
"You don’t know that."
"I do."
Naomi glared. God, she hated him.
Probably.
"Well," he said calmly, "you will stay married to me for the next six months. If you decide to fight me, I will drag the proceedings for as long as I can. You will probably end up married to me for years and still walk away with nothing."
"You cannot do that!"
"I am Dorian Heathcliffe."
The arrogance in that sentence should have been illegal. He stepped closer. Naomi stood her ground, even though every instinct told her this man was very used to getting exactly what he wanted.
"You should have instead thought of things I can do before you married me."
Naomi’s eyes widened. "I did not know I married you!"
"Minor detail." Dorian adjusted his sleeves, completely unbothered.
Naomi’s anger climbed higher. "You are an asshole. Do you only care about yourself?"
Dorian walked toward her. After the kiss, she did not trust him within a five-foot radius of her mouth.
Her pulse betrayed her immediately. Dorian leaned slightly. Naomi stopped breathing. Then he reached behind her. Naomi realized, one mortifying second later, that he was only reaching for his jacket. She had absolutely not thought he was about to kiss her again. Her face heated anyway.
He slipped into the jacket. Then he looked at her. "Think about it, Mrs. Heathcliffe."
Naomi’s jaw dropped. He turned and walked toward the door, opened it and left. Naomi stood there.
Furious that he had gotten the last word. She hurried after him and yanked the door open. Dorian was already halfway down the corridor.
"Hey!"
He kept walking. Her irritation exploded.
"Your pancakes sucked!!!" She stepped back inside and slammed the door hard.
Ugh!!!
Asshole!!!
*****
THREE MONTHS AGO
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid fucking ATM!" Naomi jabbed the buttons again, even though common sense suggested abusing the machine further was unlikely to improve its customer service. "Yeah, like my life isn’t hard enough. You know what? Fuck you! Fuck you and fuck you!"
A couple walking past slowed down to stare. She pointed accusingly at the ATM screen.
"You stupid fuck! All I want is some money to buy drinks and have fun with my best friend, who is apparently leaving me too to get married. How pathetic is that?"
"Statistically, about forty percent of marriages end in divorce, so she might be right back with you soon enough."
That voice definitely had not come from the ATM. Unless Vegas had upgraded its banking technology considerably.
She turned around. The man standing behind her was tall, broad-shouldered and dressed like he had accidentally wandered away from somewhere much more expensive. His black shirt was open at the collar.
Sharp jaw. Dark, assessing eyes.
Naomi stared at him. Then remembered what he had said. "I can’t hope for that."
"Neither should you be holding the line at a machine."
She looked behind him and saw no one. "I’m in Vegas," she declared. "I can do whatever the fuck I want."
"That is generally how people end up needing lawyers." Dorian’s gaze shifted toward the screen. "I’m guessing the machine isn’t dispensing cash?"
"Oh, it is. It just isn’t dispensing for me."
"You think the ATM has something against you?"
"At this point, I wouldn’t rule it out."
"Did you check if you have enough funds on the card?" he asked.
"I’m not a child. Of course I checked."
Dorian’s gaze swept over her. His eyes moved from the loose waves falling over her shoulders to the short dress her best friend had practically wrestled her into earlier that evening, then returned to her face. "So what happened?" he asked.
Naomi folded her arms. "I entered the wrong PIN multiple times. It took my card."
"Ah," he finally said. "Too many drinks, then." Dorian stepped closer to the machine.
Naomi caught a clean, expensive scent she couldn’t identify. She also caught the scent of whiskey.
So Mr. Judgmental had apparently been drinking too. His eyes lingered on hers before he nodded toward the machine.
"You should call the bank in the morning. And stop abusing their property."
"The machine started it."
Dorian laughed.
"You look strange when you smile." she said then sighed and leaned against the wall beside the ATM. "I just want a night of fun. One night to forget. How hard is that? The universe has been against me since the day I was born."
Dorian knew melodrama when he heard it. Normally, he had very little patience for it. Tonight, however, he understood the sentiment more than he cared to admit. He was in Vegas for exactly the same reason.
To forget.
His friends had dragged him out here under the guise of celebrating his newly restored freedom. Dorian found himself strangely amused by her.
She wanted one night to forget. So did he.
"How about I pay for your drinks for the rest of the night?" he asked. "Would that be a sign that the universe is now on your side?"