Two words, delivered with such finality that even I feel the temperature in the room drop. Daniel's smile falters for a moment before he recovers.
"We'll see," he says with false lightness, then turns and walks away.
Christian watches him go, jaw clenched so tight I fear for his teeth. The muscle in his cheek ticks with barely suppressed fury.
"I take it you two aren't friends," I say, trying for humor to break the tension.
"He's ambitious. Competent. And entirely too aware of both." Christian's eyes remain fixed on Daniel's retreating back. "He's also about five seconds from finding himself unemployed."
"Because he flirted with me?" I ask, surprised.
Christian's gaze snaps back to mine, intense enough to make my breath catch. "Because he deliberately disrespected both of us. He knew exactly what he was doing."
"Which was what, exactly?" I press, needing to understand.
"Testing boundaries." Christian's hand slides from my back to my waist, drawing me closer. "Seeing how far he could push before I reacted."
"And did you? React how he wanted?"
Something dangerous flashes in Christian's eyes. "Yes."
The single word contains volumes. I should be alarmed by the possessiveness it implies, by the way Christian seems to think he has some claim on me after just a few hours together. Instead, I feel that same inappropriate thrill traveling up my spine, settling warm and liquid in my chest.
"I don't belong to you," I say quietly, needing to say the words aloud—to remind both of us.
"Don't you?" he challenges, his voice dropping lower, intimate. "For tonight, at least?"
The question hangs between us, charged with possibilities I'm not ready to name. Around us, the gala continues—glasses clinking, orchestra playing, hundreds of wealthy people laughing and networking and judging. But in this moment, it's just us, locked in some unspoken negotiation of boundaries and desires.
"It's just one night," I remind myself as much as him.
"Is it?" he counters, his eyes never leaving mine.
I don't have an answer for that. Which terrifies and thrills me in equal measure.
Christian's thumb traces small circles against my waist, the gesture possessive but somehow comforting. "I apologize for Daniel," he says, surprising me. "And for James. Not for protecting you—I won't apologize for that—but for putting you in a position where you needed protection."
"It's not your fault," I say automatically.
"It is." His expression softens fractionally. "I brought you here, knowing exactly what would happen when these men saw you with me. Knowing they would either want you for themselves or want to take you from me, simply because you're with me."
The raw honesty in his voice catches me off guard. "Why did you bring me, then? Really?"
For a moment, I think he might actually answer. Something vulnerable flickers in his expression, there and gone so quickly I might have imagined it.
"Would you believe me if I said I couldn't stay away?" he asks quietly.
The admission—so unlike his usual confident declarations—makes my heart stumble in my chest. Before I can respond, the orchestra strikes up a new song, and Christian's expression shifts back to careful control.
"Dance with me," he says. Not a question, not quite a command. Something in between.
I should say no. Should create some distance. Should remind myself that I'm here for business, not to fall under the spell of a man whose idea of a relationship seems to involve ownership.
Instead, I place my hand in his and let him lead me onto the dance floor, already knowing I'm in deeper than I should be.
And the night has only just begun.
Chapter
