8. Thwarted

8

" V iolet!" Jolene exclaimed. Always one to greet me as though she hadn't just seen me quite recently, she pulled me into a tight embrace.

She began venting about all the errands Winston had sent her out on during the day, but I couldn't ignore my throbbing feet, or the fact that Chance Harper had once again spotted me and was making his way through the crowd in my direction.

"Jolene," I interrupted her, placing my hand on her forearm, "I don't feel very well. I'm so sorry. Can we talk tomorrow?"

Her face fell.

"I'll bring you lunch," I offered, glancing quickly over her shoulder. Serena had managed to intercept Chance.

Ha!

"Please tell me it wasn't the canapés. I swear they were all at the regulation temperature."

"No." I shook my head. "Just a migraine coming on. And my feet are killing me."

"Were you over by the sound booth? Because somebody shattered a glass over there. Are you bleeding?" Her brow furrowed in concern.

"I don't think so." I gulped when I realized Chance had managed to evade Serena, but I couldn't see him in the crowd. "I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I gave her hand a quick squeeze and turned to leave, only to run right into a brick wall, which turned out to be Chance's impressively muscular chest.

"Woah." Chance's hands darted out to my shoulders to steady me. "Sorry."

"I need to go." I pulled away from him.

"Leaving so soon, Miss Price?" The headmaster once again appeared out of nowhere to scold me.

Is everyone in on this plot against me?

"I'm sick." I glared up at him, just over Chance's shoulder, both infuriatingly blocking my exit.

"I was just offering to escort her back to her room." The corners of Chance's mouth turned up at the opportunity. "Don't want anyone fainting on the front lawn." He chuckled, turning to the headmaster.

Was that asshole mocking me?

"Good man." Winston again clapped an approving hand over Chance's shoulder. "Nice to see chivalry is alive and well."

I stifled a snort at both the sentiment and the person who was delivering it.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed." Chance wrapped his arm around my waist, sending the traitorous butterflies soaring at the intimate contact.

I attempted to step out of his hold, but he only tightened his grip.

His audacity was appalling.

"Jolene, they're out of vermouth at the bar. Be a dear and grab another bottle from the kitchens," Winston instructed her, when I turned to bid them both farewell. The words died on my lips as Jolene quickly scurried to carry out his request.

The moment we were far enough from the party, I ducked out of Chance's grasp.

I slipped my heels off and marched across the front lawn toward the carriage house.

"Hey, wait up!" Chance called out, jogging to catch up with me. "You're fast for such a short little thing." He was easily able to keep a regular stride with me as I was forced to speed walk, not wanting to all out sprint toward the confines of my apartment.

"Fuck off, Chance," I growled.

"Hey." He reached out for my wrist, but his grip was light, so I was able to easily pull it through his fingers.

"Don't touch me," I snapped.

"Violet," he tried to reason with me.

"I hope you've enjoyed yourself, making a fool of me. I don't need your help, so go back to the party," I snarled as I stomped up the front stairs of the carriage house.

"That wasn't my intention, I swear," Chance argued, dodging the door as I swung it wide, missing his pretty face by less than an inch.

Drat.

I'd never made such quick work of the three flights of stairs up to my room than I did that night. I couldn't be out of Chance's company soon enough. I didn't understand why he wouldn't release me to lick my wounds and wallow in self-pity.

"Violet, please let me explain." He was close—too close. I could feel his body behind me as I struggled to unlatch the door lock, which had decided that was the perfect time to stick.

"What!?" I wheeled around, leaving my keys dangling in the lock. "What do you want from me?"

"Last night—I know I didn't dream that kiss. You don't have to pretend you're not interested."

"You rescued me from sexual assault! I thought you were a good guy." I threw my hands in the air. "Or was that some kind of elaborate setup to get me into bed, but then you decided long-term torture would be more fun?"

"Set up? Torture?" he sputtered. "What are you talking about?"

"Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can go around humiliating women for sport," I hissed.

"Humiliating?" He shook his head, trying to keep up.

"Please," I pleaded. "Just go back to the mixer so they don't think I'm sleeping with you."

His eyes widened in response. "Is that what they'll think?"

"You obviously don't need this job," I accused him. "But I do." I pointed my index finger into my chest repeatedly to drive the point home. "If they think there is anything going on between us, I'm the one who will get fired."

"Why would they fire you?" Chance questioned.

"It's part of the code of conduct. There's a strict non-fraternization policy." I huffed.

Chance's shoulders fell. "I didn't know."

"Well now you do."

"Violet—"

"Why did you lie to me?" I couldn't contain the hurt in my voice. But I had to know.

Chance shook his head again. "I was going to tell you—I planned to, but I just wanted to get to know you first."

"That's a bullshit answer," I called him out. "You knew exactly what you were doing. Admit it."

"You were being so open, and I thought if you knew, you wouldn't have been as honest with me. But I really just wanted to talk to a cute, smart girl I met in a bar. Would you have been so candid if I'd told you I was teaching here?" he argued.

My resolve faltered momentarily at what felt like a genuine compliment and a truthful response. But it didn't change the fact that he had lied to me. Lying was the one thing I couldn't get past.

"Can I come in—just to talk?" he asked softly, but not suggestively.

"NO!" I turned again, tugging at the lock, silently begging for it to open.

My breath hitched as he caged me in from behind, the warmth of his front flush with my back. I tried to ignore the bulge I felt against my backside and his soft breath against my neck. I couldn't help but press back into Chance, relishing our closeness, despite my anger.

Chance's right hand slid down my arm until he had a hold on the key, and his left arm snaked around my waist, coming to rest on the door handle.

My heart might have skipped a beat at our close proximity, my breath coming out in soft pants, my core clenching, being so close to him again. The physiological reactions he elicited from me were becoming a huge problem.

"You have to pull the door toward you, while you turn the key, when it sticks," he whispered as he performed the same motion. My door quietly clicked open, but I stood frozen at the threshold, his arms still around me.

"Mine does the same thing," Chance answered my unspoken question.

"Yours…" I murmured, trying desperately to hang on to any semblance of sense left in me. I still wanted him. Despite everything he'd done, my body still wanted him.

I was on the verge of pulling him into the room with me when he replied, "I'm right next door."

I gulped. Of course he was.

There was no escaping Chance Harper, it seemed. But I wasn't going to give up so easily.

Wordlessly, I retreated into my room, closing the door in his face.

"Goodnight, Violet." He chuckled on the other side of the door before the sound of his footsteps faded back down the hall.