Cowboy to Command by Sabrina York

Author:Sabrina York
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-10-03T13:39:58+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“So,” Cody drawled as Brandon walked away. Porsche’s gaze followed him.

“Mmm?”

“Are you having a nice time?”

Porsche frowned as Brandon was stopped by one of the women across the room, one of the barracudas. She had long glossy nails and pouffed-up hair and waaaay too much makeup. Her dress was so slinky and tight Porsche was surprised it didn’t rip at the seams. And her boobs . . . Who had boobs like that? They thrust out like the headlights on an old Model T. Porsche had the prickling temptation to squeeze one. First, to see if it would even squeeze—it did appear to be cast in steel—and second, to see if it went a-ooga. She narrowed her eyes as that woman set her hand on Brandon’s bare chest and then nearly growled when her fingers curled, sinking her nails in deep, as though she wanted to mark him.

“Porsche?”

She flinched. “Huh? What?”

“I asked if you’re having a good time.”

“Of course I’m having a good time,” she snarled. “Why wouldn’t I be having a good time? This is a party.”

Cody lurched back. “I . . . um. Okay. Can I get you another drink?”

“Oh, yes please.” She handed him her empty glass. “Something strong.” Something potent.

He grinned and bounded away and she resettled her attention on Brandon, who was now surrounded by a flock of vultures. They were all cut from the same cloth as the first, with perfect hair, perfect faces, and really good plastic surgeons.

She didn’t even notice Claire come up beside her, so it was something of a surprise when her friend spoke. “Good party, huh?”

Porsche glared in response. “Who are those women?” she asked, nodding to the clowder of cats.

“Them? They’re from Dallas.”

“Are they Hanna’s friends?” They didn’t seem like the kind of friends Hannah would have, but people did change when they moved to the city. She had.

“Diane’s. Most of them are high society, but Diane and Sam run in that crowd because of the business.”

“Hmm.”

“They came to celebrate her birthday with her.”

“How nice of them.” And if that bitch didn’t get her hand off Brandon’s back she was going to lose it. Was she rubbing him? Seriously?

“Here you go,” Cody said, appearing before her—and blocking her view, dammit.

“What?”

“Here’s your drink.” He thrust a tumbler at her. “I know you like tequila.”

“What is that,” Claire asked, eyeing the glass, “six shots?”

“She asked for something strong.”

“You better eat something if you drink all that.”

But Porsche had no appetite. Well, except for blood. She wouldn’t mind a taste of that about now. She satisfied herself with the tequila because it had a lovely numbing effect. Claire and Cody talked around her, or at her, but she was oblivious to the conversation, until Claire said something along the lines of, “We should move into the ballroom. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Cody nodded and then clapped his hands to make the announcement and the room began to clear.

Porsche lingered, though, holding back with the performers, who would be going straight to the stage.

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