Trace stammers. “I, uh… is this okay with you, Leanna?”
I nod once. “Thanks. Nice to meet you.”
The dismissal is clear.
He steps back, rubbing the back of his neck, face twisted with worry, like he thinks he’ll get in trouble with my father for letting a Barkov cut in, for allowing a Barkov totouchme.
Little do they know.
A small smile tugs at my lips as Nik pulls me into his arms. He’s far more forceful and possessive than he is smart in a room like this. His body presses flush against mine, no gap, his hand straying low enough that they’re nearly on my ass.
“You should cool it,” I murmur, keeping my smile in place. “This is already scandalous. Everyone’s staring.”
He doesn’t cool it. Not even a little. He’s enormous, scowling, radiating menace, and I know no one in this room is going to challenge him. He knows it too.
“I’d call this a diplomatic effort,” he says finally, after scanning the room.
We turn, and my eyes land on my father. He’s trying to mask his reaction, but the tight downturn of his lips betrays him.
Worse are my brothers, who look absolutely disgusted.
Nik takes it all in on the next rotation and chuckles darkly. “Interesting.”
“Pissing off my dad and brothers isn’t part of the game,” I hiss.
“A bonus, then,” he answers, seemingly unbothered.
I scoff, but can’t think of a good comeback.
To be honest, I want to melt into him.
Where I felt nothing with Trace, with Nik it’s the opposite—everything burns.
I have to hold myself rigid to keep from showing too much of the electric attraction I feel.
This is already too dangerous. Any wrong move on my part will be problematic in ways I might not be able to diffuse.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Trace on the edge of the dance floor. His expression has shifted from worry to something closer to jealousy. When our eyes meet, he tilts his head, gaze wide, like he’s trying to send me a message. I look away quickly, my heart pounding. I can’t tell if it’s because of Nik’s heat, our chemistry, or the weight of an entire room’s scrutiny.
“Are you fond of that man?” Nik asks quietly.
“No,” I say firmly. “I don’t even know him. He’s just one of my father’s five potential matches.”
“Hmm,” he hums. “Then he’ll be dead by morning.”
I choke on a noise of disbelief. “What? Why?”
“Because he touched you.”
“I’m not your property,” I snap.
“I beg to differ,” he answers.
“Why? Because you paid me to come all over you? Now you feel some ownership over me? Well, you can disabuse yourself of that notion. That arrangement is over.”
“Obviously,” he says. “But I don’t thinkweare over. Not nearly.”
A chill runs through me, equal parts tantalizing and terrifying. I don’t want us to be over either, not even close. But his earlier words echo in my head.He could take me. Use me as leverage.Not being done with me might not mean what I think it does.
