Page 71 of The Billionaire's Redemption

I turn my head and see a beautiful woman approaching us. Her eyes are on Ethan, ambition and determination sparkling inthose stunning green orbs, her vibrant red hair piled in a bun on top of her head.

“You never called me back after our date!” The woman crosses her arms over her chest, looking vaguely annoyed. Her lower lip pokes out in a fashion that not many would be able to pull off, but she manages to.

I glance at Ethan, feeling a strange ball of tension form in my chest, and to my surprise, he looks vaguely annoyed. “Elizabeth.”

The woman leans forward, her hand coming to settle on his chest, her tone sultry, “You know you can call me Liz.”

A surge of uncontrollable fury surges through me before I can stop myself, and I grab her wrist, forcibly lowering her hand. Her eyes flicker towards me, and I see the flash of sharp anger in her eyes. When she speaks, the dismissive edge to her tone is unmistakable. “And who is this? Your flavor of the week?”

She gives me a once-over, condescension dripping from her gaze. “A little lackluster, isn’t she? Where did you find this one?”

“Ethan.” My voice is sharp, my eyes on the woman, fury spearing through me. “If you brought me here to rub your past floozies in my face, I’m sure I can find a much better use of my time.”

I untangle myself from him, or at least give it my best shot. His grip loosens, and as soon as my arm is free, he pulls me into his side with a proprietary hold around my waist.

“You have such a way with words.” Ethan looks down at me with a smile. “And I wouldn’t insult you by doing something so despicable. I had dinner with this woman once.” He doesn’t even glance in Elizabeth’s direction. “That is the extent of my involvement with her. It wasn’t something I would even consider a date.”

The woman bristles, her perfectly made-up face contortingwith indignation. “Excuse me? It was definitely a date! You kissed me?—”

“No,” Ethan says steadily, turning his attention towards her. “You attempted to kiss me, and I called you a cab.”

I don’t want to feel reassured by his words. I also don’t want to care about his past. But I feel a flicker of irritation nonetheless, the emotion taking me by surprise.

As the woman storms off, I glance at him. “You sure remember a lot about your dinner date with her.”

Ethan studies me, the corner of his lips tilting up. “And you sound like that bothers you.”

I open my mouth but the words get stuck in my throat. I quickly avert my gaze, jerking my shoulder, the gesture not as casual as I’d hoped. “Why would it bother me? You’re free to date the entire female population of Chicago if you please.”

“Unfortunately, the entire female population of this city isn’t you, and I don’t like to waste my time.”

He’s still holding me ridiculously close, and my heart is pounding from the way he’s smiling at me. However, I refuse to be charmed by this man who seems to know just the right thing to say when it comes to me.

“You certainly had time to waste on her.”

Ethan’s smile broadens now, a pleased glint in his eyes. “Is that jealousy I detect, Miss Thorne?”

“As if,” I scoff, trying to move away from him, only to have his arm tighten around my waist.

“I like the idea of you being jealous over me.” He takes a step towards me, and suddenly there is no distance between us. In this room filled with people, conversation flowing around us, the sound of glasses clicking, and soft music playing, it feels like we are the only two people. “However, you are the last person who should be jealous, considering you are who I’ve been coveting for all these years.”

My mouth turns dry, the blood pounding between my ears.Suddenly, I’m remembering what his sister told me about his preference for a certain type of woman.

Redheads.

I could assume he was always partial towards women who had red hair, but I know a bit about Ethan’s dating history from long before he met me, what I could find out when he was showing interest in me all those years ago.

He was never into redheads specifically.

I stare at him, a thousand questions swirling in my mind.

I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t open this door.

“Did you go out with that woman because she had red hair?”

The words escape before I can stop them, hanging between us like a challenge.

CHAPTER 12