Rachael's patience wore thin, and she was about to snap at Kellan, when his deep, soothing voice cut through her brewing anger, laced with both mischief and a disarming innocence. "Miss Brown, you just tore my jacket and never paid me back, and after all the trouble I went through to help you, you're just going to walk away?"
Rachael faltered, her eyes dropping to the ruined pocket of his suit jacket. The shirt beneath was unbuttoned at the top, hinting at his lean, athletic frame. Heat crept up her cheeks.
Of course she was to blame, and her own reaction left her flustered.
Xander had always warned her about Kellan's ruthless ways.
She'd painted him as nothing but trouble in her mind.
With the two of them standing that close for the first time, she couldn't really blame herself for being jumpy.
Trying to steady herself, she took a shaky deep breath and said, "Fine. I'm sorry. How much do I owe you for this jacket? I'll pay for it."
He watched her, noticing how the soft makeup set off her skin, glowing and fresh like springtime. When she blinked, her long lashes fluttered and drew his gaze.
He swallowed hard, gaze lingering. Then, slowly and deliberately, he slid the jacket from his shoulders and handed it over, his movements relaxed and oddly captivating.
Rachael found herself flustered, and instinctively stepped back, her eyes bright with embarrassment.
"I've already apologized, Mr. Mitchell."
He offered her the jacket, lips curling into a sly smile. "I'm not after your money. What I want is a proper replacement for this."
Rachael nearly rolled her eyes at him.
Her fingers brushed the collar—no tag, and the fabric and cut screamed custom.
Where was she supposed to find an exact match for something like this?
"So you won't replace it?" he asked, tilting his head. "Guess I'll just have to bring this up with Mr. Spencer, then."
He immediately reached for his phone, pretending to dial a number without hesitation.
Panic flared in Rachael, and she caught his wrist. "Don't do that!"
His eyes flickered down to her hand wrapped around his arm, surprise giving way to a glimmer of amusement.
She realized what she was doing and let go, snatching up the suit jacket instead. "Fine. I'll get you another just like it."
A slow smile spread across his face as he crossed his arms and leaned back, clearly entertained. "I'll hold off on calling Mr. Spencer—at least until you deliver. But just so you know, I'm not easy to please. Don't think you can get away with something off the rack."
Biting back a retort, Rachael kept her cool and turned to walk away.
This time, he didn't follow. Instead, he slipped behind the wheel of a sleek Maybach and drove off, leaving her standing alone.
As Rachael turned and walked towards her own car, she caught sight of Xander a short distance away. He was talking fast, body language anxious, trying to placate someone in front of him.
And before him, Milly stood with her arms folded, her glare cold and unyielding.
"So she said it right to my face, and you're still denying it?" Milly's voice rang out.
The scene clicked instantly in Rachael's mind, and a cold smirk tugged at her lips.
Anger simmered inside her, and she strode up without a pause.
"Honey, didn't I warn you last night that my perfume would stick around? But you didn't listen—now Miss Clark can smell it. Next time, please shower after we're done."
Whatever progress Xander had made with Milly vanished instantly at Rachael's words.
Rachael, unfazed by the stormy look on his face, turned to Milly and added in her sweetest tone, "Sorry, we'll be more careful next time. I know you're both busy with work, so I'll leave you to it. Take care."
Without another glance, she climbed into her car and sped away, leaving chaos in her wake.
