I eyed his palm warily for a few seconds before letting my eyes slide lazily to his face. His facial expression was unreadable, no surprise there though, and his grey eyes were looking pointedly at something else. I crinkled my eyebrows together and tilted my head to the side, following his gaze.Two men in business suits and a woman in an expensive high-low tulle dress stood a few feet away from us. I caught their scrutinizing stares before they quickly averted their eyes. Their faces were somewhat recognizable like I had seen them before. I felt a little cold tingle at the back of my neck at the thought of them watching us...
"I think they're watching us," I muttered, voicing out my thoughts and whirling my head back to Mr. Asshole.
"You think?" he said with a low chuckle. "Miss. Greene, they are watching you."
I looked at him, bewildered and my face contorted into something that I was sure looked weird. "What? Aren't you not bothered? I mean, they are staring really hard and I'm starting to get creeped out."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Double negative, Miss. Greene. You know, my hand is still up in the air and I'm not going to repeat myself; Shall we dance?"
I stared blankly at him and knowingly raised the brim of the glass in my hand to my mouth. I kept my eyes on his face as I took a long sip of wine. "No," I said, licking the now-thin coat of my cherry lip gloss off my lips. "No, Mr. Trevelyan. I don't want to dance." With you.
His eyebrows lifted in response and I held back a smirk. Then, he smirked and my eyebrows lifted. "Ditto." He pulled back his hand and shoved it into his pocket. "You see those people staring at you?"
I swallowed, my eyes flicking over to the three creeps I saw earlier. "Yeah?"
"You don't remember them, do you?"
I blinked. "Uh, no, I don't?"
His penetrating gaze flickered to me and I noticed that he looked almost bored. "You sound unsure," he said.
"Okay, where's this leading to exactly?"
He nodded at two men in suits as they passed by us. "Miss. Greene, I didn't actually request for your hand in... dancing. I ordered. And, like I said before, it is your choice if you want to defy or oblige." He pulled out his hands from his pockets and folded his arms across his chest. His face hardened and his taut jaw clenched harder. "But I swear, Miss. Greene, if those three people over there doubt 'our supposed relationship', trust me on this one, you will not like the consequences."
The seriousness in his tone made me dry-swallow unconsciously. I glanced at the three creeps who continued to stare at the both of us; it was quite obvious that my stiff and tense posture and Mr. Asshole's serious expression piqued their interest.
With my throat suddenly feeling dry, I started, "I do not dance."
His expression didn't waver. "That's not my problem."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged half-heartedly and his gaze slid to me, his grey eyes boring into my head. "Exactly what you want it to mean."
My eyes narrowed on their own and I felt my fingers tighten on the glass. "That response was very responsive... Mr. Trevelyan."
"Sure."
I immediately sunk my teeth into the inside of my cheek. Asshole. After successfully delivering my death glare at him, I tilted my head to meet his gaze. "Fine. Shall we dance?"
YOU ARE READING
Marry me
RomansaIvan Trevelyan is one of the most successful business owners in New York. Dark, rude, and fearsome, his employees are forced to put up with his constant mood swings and insatiable demands. He is known mostly for his good looks, wealth, and arrogant...