The Rake (Boston Belles #4) by L.J. Shen

Politeness went out the window when his eyes landed on what was mine.

“You were?” Sweven gave me a lazy onceover. Again, I found her indifference to me enchanting. “Honestly, one would think you’d be searching for more important things, like your spine.”

“Maybe I’ll find your manners while I’m at it,” I bit out.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You don’t have a good track record for finding things. My G-spot can attest.”

That was plainly a lie. I could find her G-spot if it was in a lineup with five fucking others, and she darn well knew it.

“Devon, do you know this gem?” James pointed at her with his glass of bubbly like she was a painting he was thinking of buying.

I wanted to punch him to the ground and then keep going until he reached the depths of hell. “She is so funny!”

“Marvelous,” I said gravely. “And yes, I know her well.”

“Not well enough, apparently.” Belle took out her phone from her purse, determined to let me know she was more disinterested than embarrassed about the scene I was making.

“Well enough to impregnate her with my baby.” I turned to James, nailing him with a frosty look. “You make whatever you want of it.”

“You’re pregnant?” James’s eyes dropped to her midriff.

His skin went pale. His eyes flared. Perhaps he thought he hit the jackpot with wife number two.

Belle shrugged, rolling the entire thing off her back. “We both want a child. It’s not like we’re together.”

“We do live together.” I let loose a wolfish grin.

She patted my arm like a concerned aunt. “Only because you begged.”

“Begged? No. But I did use an unorthodox way of persuasion.”

“You talk a real big game, honey. You do know people have sex all the time and it doesn’t end with marriage, or babies, or even, ya’ know, a phone call?”

“Try to reduce what we have as much as you wish, but the facts speak for themselves. You are carrying my child, living under my roof, and getting nailed by me on a weekly basis.”

This was the part where James Davidson excused himself and pretended he noticed someone across the room.

I stayed with Sweven, who stared at me like she was going to have my balls for breakfast tomorrow.

“What the fuck, dude?”

“The fuck is you’re flirting with one of the worst charlatans in the business in front of my eyes, and I cannot risk his subpar intelligence and awful backward logic near my child. What if he becomes her stepdad?”

I was well aware I sounded like a terrible hypocrite.

Belle’s blue eyes widened, more in anger than shock. “Are you kidding me now?”

“Not now, but maybe later. There’s not much humor in our situation.”

“You’re marrying someone else!” She punched me in the chest. Hard.

We were beginning to draw the wrong sort of attention.

Unfortunately for Belle, she had finally met her match. I did not much care what people thought of me. Most were so dazzled by my titles and accent, they’d let me get away with murder.

“I’d still let you warm my bed, if you play your cards right.” I knew this was going to drive her bonkers.

It did. She slapped my face now. Hard. I did not react.

“Take me somewhere private so I can bite your head off properly,” she commanded.

I pressed my hand against the small of her back and ushered her to a mezzanine library in the corner of the room. It was a small space, painted wall-to-wall with an elaborate black sky dotted with stars that made you feel like you were in outer space.

A cluster of businessmen lounged there, talking idly as they sipped their drinks.

“Out!” I barked.

They scurried away like the hares had when my father had unleashed his hound dogs. People in this city knew I made a good friend and a terrible enemy.

I pinned Sweven to one of the walls, my eyes dropping to her luscious lips.

She had nowhere to move. Nowhere to go.

“Here,” I hissed seductively to her lips. “Bite my head off. I’ll even unbuckle to make life easy for you.”

She groaned, pushing me away. “You’re about to marry someone else, so get the hell away from me before I grab your balls and make sure the child I’m carrying is the only one you’ll have.”

I chuckled sardonically, palming her cheek. She slapped my hand away.

“You’re frightened, aren’t you? That I’d put a ring on her finger.” I was flattered, though I still couldn’t understand why she was so darn stubborn and cold.

“Actually, I couldn’t care less. I’m just letting you know I’m no one’s side piece.” She made a move to duck under my arm, but I moved quickly, blocking her way to the door.

“Who fucked you up like this?” I seethed, demanding to know.

I held her arms, not wanting to let go but unsure how to get to her either.

“I’m trying my fucking hardest, but always reach the same dead end. You want the cock, the banter, the conversation, but not the feelings. When I give the feelings to someone else, you lose it. So let me ask you again—Who. Did. This. To. You?” I shook with rage. I was going to kill the wanker. End him. “Who made you so utterly incapable of having a healthy relationship with a man?”