He made a noncommittal noise and kept that unnerving whisky gaze on her. “How enterprising,” he finally said, and something about his tone irked her.
Just like a man to disregard as silly feminine whimsy anything that was made for or by them. She should end this now. He’d already wasted enough of her time.
“Sir, I—”
“May I?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around the cork on the bottle, and Luz finally had enough.
“No, you may not.” She didn’t snatch the bottle from him, but she did manage to pry it from his unsurprisingly powerful grip. At the contact, a shock so intense ran up her forearm that she almost dropped the bottle. He reacted too, staring at his own hand with a puzzled looked on his face, then flexing it a couple of times. It made something hot and tight stir inside her.
She had no time to dwell on it since he went almost instantly back to being an irritating ass.
“That’s not very reflective of the spirit of fraternité our French hosts asked us to embrace.” He tsked, shaking his head from side to side like she was letting down the entirety of the exposition with her selfish attitude.
Andthatwas when her patience finally snapped.
“Iam the one fracturing the fraternal spirit of the exposition? Not every so-called gentleman who has gone out of his way to let me know I am not welcome here?” She was able to keep her voice low, but she was trembling from fury. She could not stop herself if she tried. The dam had been broken. “Iam the one lacking in the right attitude when I’ve been ogled, insulted and harassed after I’ve paid my way like every other distiller?” Her breaths were coming in bursts, her breasts rising and falling as she glared. She was aflame with indignation. “Have you had to explain your reasons for entering this pavilion even once? Well, I have to do it every time I attempt to cross that threshold.” Was her voice shaking? Oh God, she was going to cry. With great effort, she clamped her jaw together and tried to get herself under control.
His eyebrows were so high on his forehead they were practically at his hairline. She knew what would come next, and she braced herself for the insults, the sneer from him, but he only looked at her as if he was trying to decipher a very complicated puzzle. At length he finally responded, and it was not what she’d expected in the least.
“If you share the names of the men who have interfered with you, I’d be happy to acquaint them with the proper way to treat our colleagues.” His voice was very even, but there was an edge of menace that made her stand a bit straighter.
He looked angry and...sincere? As though he truly intended to go searching for the offending parties. And a month ago she might’ve felt a small sense of relief at that, even felt gratitude for the gesture, but she knew better now. There would be no help forthcoming. All this man would accomplish was to waste her time and exhaust her patience.
You only have yourself to depend on.
“Right now, the only person interfering with my ability to do business is you,” she told him, smothering the little voice in her head trying to convince her any offer of help was better than what she had now. “I am not moving my things,” she told him stubbornly, returning them to the matter at hand. She was well past trying to make allies out of people who saw her as nothing more than a curiosity.
“I’m sure we can figure out an arrangement that works for both of us, Miss...” he said in that tone men used before they patted her on the head and told her to run along.
“Luz Alana Heith-Benzan.” She straightened her spine as she told him her name.Luz Alana:lightin Spanish andbeautyin Gaelic. Light and beauty. That always helped, recalling who she was. That there was purpose in her presence here.
“Alana?” he asked, his brogue deepening even in that one word. “Are you Scots?”
“DominicanandScottish.” Luz didn’t attempt to disguise her impatience.
“Interesting.”
“My father was Scots,” she bit out. “He came from Scotland to Barbados when he was a young man. But he settled in Hispaniola shortly after. It’s an island in the Caribbean,” she added before he could ask her. “Now that you’ve had your geography lesson, would you be kind enough tomove your things?”
His upper lip twitched with humor, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming.
“I know where Hispaniola is.” It was truly exasperating how he handpicked which things to respond to. “My cousin was born in Jamaica.”
“How nice for you,” she replied in the most caustic tone she could manage, but the pendejo only laughed. That was it. She was done with this game. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to fix this.”
He just sent her another one of those bemused smiles.
“By fixing, you mean hiding my whisky.”
She ignored him and continued to work on returning her items to the front half of the table. She dusted off her hands as she finished, piercing him with a challenging look. “Today Scotland and Dominican Republic will have to coexist on equal terms.”
The naked astonishment on his face almost made her laugh, but if he ever saw her teeth they would be biting into one of those enormous hands pawing her things.
“Equal terms,” he repeated, that seemingly ever-present mirth tinging his words.
“We can call it informal diplomacy. It’s been done before,” she said, waving a hand in front of herself. “I am living proof.”
“You’re very unlikely.” He sounded so genuinely confused, Luz wasn’t certain if he’d intended for her to hear that.
