“Icould have you thrown out. That would put an end to…whatever this is,” he drawled, flicking his fingers between them.
“Yes, you could. But your brother wouldn’t take kindly to you treating the sister of the woman he loves that way, would he?” she replied.
No, he didn’t think his brother would like that one bit. “Where is he, anyway?” he demanded, glancing past her to stop himself from staring at her some more. To stop being consumed alive by the electricity that sparked so effortlessly every time she was close.
“You need to escape me that badly?”
Again that hint of hurt and innocence that tugged at something inside him, a belief perhaps that everything wasn’t so dire. That somewhere within her there was some gentleness that could sustain a soul.
That ache triggered a deeper yearning that alarmed him.
“You think you can handle me?” he taunted lightly, hoping she’d take the hint and retreat. But he was learning that not backing down wasn’t just a Quayson trait.
The Hayford women, this one in particular, had it in spades.
“No one has accused me of not giving a worthy cause my best shot.”
Against his better judgement he was intrigued. He added, “You think I’m a worthy cause?”
Her gaze travelled from the top of his head to his hand-stitched shoes and back again, and Atu had never felt this exposed. Never felt the urge to pivot away from her gaze, shield himself from whatever it was she saw. Not even when his father had threatened to strip him of every brick of support had he felt as vulnerable as he did now.
“I haven’t decided yet. Stop trying to push me away and I’ll let you know by the end of the night. What have you got to lose?”
Harsh laughter barked from his throat. “What have I got to lose? Surely you can’t be that naive?”
“The obvious matters between our families aside, of course. But need I remind you that your parents invited me and my family to this party?”
“To avoid scandal, which you seem hell-bent on creating,” he replied.
“By just talking to you? If this is your definition of scandalous behaviour, I’m intrigued to discover what you’ll think when your brother and my sister announce whatever it is they’ve been keeping under wraps lately.”
He frowned, the reminder making him scour the room for his elusive brother.
She answered his silent query. “They were in the gazebo when I last saw them. In the middle of what I can only assume was another lover’s quarrel.”
Her sigh was equal measures concern and something else. Something like the emotion he’d been secretly harbouring himself. Not envy exactly. More like a need to understand this thing between his brother and Esi Hayford that was altering the brother he loved seemingly on a molecular level.
He refused to believe it was love.
Love was supposed to be gentle. Benign. Warm feelings and mutual contentment.
Wasn’t it?
“Do you know what it is?” he asked.
Her mouth twisted in a flash of unhappiness before she regained her composure. “Esi won’t tell me. Claims it’s a surprise. Do you know?”
Atu’s thoughts darted to the snippets of conversation he’d had with his brother since that night at the club. In between heading off his father’s pressure, he’d tried to find out what his older brother had meant. Fiifi had been as frustratingly vague as he’d been that night, more often than not absenting himself from the Quayson Group’s head office in Accra altogether.
With the conversation Atu had had with their father tonight, he knew he couldn’t put off a serious discussion any longer. But he wasn’t about to divulge all of that to the woman in front of him, so he changed the subject.
His gaze dropped to the glass she held. “How many of those have you had?”
She wasn’t slurring her words nor did she appear intoxicated, but he needed to be sure.
“Not enough obviously. I can feel my fingers and toes and I can see your clear evasion.”
Dear God, she made his blood burn.
Setting his own glass down, he stepped closer to her. There was one way to make this night pass faster.
And he was done with denying himself.
“You want to play? Let’s play.”
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