He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.
Rage exploded in my chest.
Whatever claim this man thought he had over my wife?—
Would end.
Now.
I pushed through the throng of bodies, shoving past masked revelers, my pulse hammering with a singleintent?—
To confront that bastard and claim my wife.
But before I could reach them, they separated.
Olivia turned toward the stairs, her gown flowing around as she moved.
I followed, keeping my distance, tracking her through the dimly lit corridor.
The wolves circled her—men and women alike, their seduction attempts as pathetic as they were persistent.
She brushed them off with effortless grace.
I nearly smiled.
Of course, she did.
She was mine.
But just as I was closing in, a woman draped herself around my neck, her perfume thick, her voice a purr of honeyed temptation.
“Well, hello there. It looks like you could use some company. I’m available.”
Her gilded gown dipped scandalously low, exposing full, tempting curves. Rubies dripped between her breasts, pooling in the valley of her cleavage.
I flicked my gaze over her once, disinterested. “I can see that. But I’m not available.”
I peeled her arms from my neck and shoved her aside.
By the time I looked past her?—
Olivia was gone.
My heart sank.
Damn it.
I ignored the woman’s indignant protests and moved, my focus singular.
I nodded to the guards stationed along the hallway, keeping my tone light and casual. “I'm looking for my playmate. Her hair is the color of flames. Have you seen her?”
Their expressions barely shifted.
“Yes,” they replied in unison. “Your flame-haired lover is that way.”
The last guard smirked, leaning lazily against the doorframe. “Save some for us, friend.”
Laughter rumbled between them.
