I turn.
Topher stands there, staring at us. “Hey, Marlowe. I saw you and just wanted to say hi.”
Declan lifts a brow, the picture of a relaxed threat. Leashed beast. Sharp teeth hidden behind polite boredom.
Topher swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs.
Before he can say anything else, Declan slides a hand under my arm and heat explodes under my skin. He walks me away from Topher without a word, away from the company, straight toward the SUV waiting outside.
“Are you insane?” I hiss the second the door shuts behind us.
“Now what do you think, Molly girl?” His voice hums with steel. “I pull you out of your self-centered mam’s clutches, get you out of dance?—”
“I’m still contracted,” I snap. “If this so-called injury heals, I’ll have to come back. Perform. Smile.”
“Then make sure it doesn’t.”
He’s so completely deadpan I want to slap him. I also want to laugh. Cry. Maybe both.
He’s given me exactly what I wanted—a way out. But it’s on his terms, the same way my life has always been on someone else’s terms.
I fold my arms. “Easier said than done. And you havean agenda.”
“Keeping your spoiled arse breathing, sure. Call that my agenda.”
“You asshole.”
“Do you want to know why I yanked you out of there, Molly girl?” he asks, tugging me onto his lap like I weigh nothing.
His hand slips under my skirt, pushing it up, cool air hitting my lace panties.
“To humiliate me?” I ask.
“To stop that womanizer from sniffing around you right under my damn nose.”
“Topher’s my dance partner.”
“Ex.” His eyes go dark, stormy green pinning me in place. “And you’re turned on.”
My brain fumbles with his words. “By Topher?”
“By me.” His finger traces over my damp panties, applying just enough pressure to make me gasp. “Unless you want him too. Because he definitely wants you.”
“I don’t want him.” My breath hitches. “And he has a girlfriend.”
“Never stopped a man like that,” Declan says.
“You should know.”
The storm in his eyes turns lethal-hot. “I don’t cheat, Molly. No matter what you’ve decided about me. We weren’t together.”
He hooks my panties aside, but he doesn’t touch yet. He just looks.
The driver’s right there. He can see me on Declan’s lap if he looks in the mirror. Hell, he might hear every ragged breath.
I’m…turned on.
By Declan.
