Rhea
I should have left. The thought had repeated itself in my head at least ten times since Ryan dragged me through the doors of the expensive boutique.
What exactly did he think I was? A beggar?
Someone he could throw money at because he felt sorry for her? The nerve of that man.
I walked a few steps behind him, my irritation growing with every second.
The moment we got to the reception , a woman behind the counter immediately brightened.
"Welcome Mr. King."
Mr. King? Was that his nickname?
I watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and flashed him a smile that probably worked on ninety percent of the male population.
Ryan barely reacted. Meanwhile, I rolled my eyes. Seriously. I didn't understand the fascination.
Yes, he was attractive. Annoyingly attractive.
But
