“We’ve had our…issues.”
He grins. “Ah, I see what this is.”
“What?”
“The arguing. The anger. That’s what makes him so enticing, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shrugs. “I’ve had my share of hate-trysts. There’s nothing quite like hate to fan the flames of passion.”
I frown. “That’s not what it is.”
“Still,” he says, “you can do better. You don’t need to be part of some ridiculous pageant to find a good husband. You could have anyone and not settle for an asshole like him.”
Heat burns my chest, words flying to my lips in Dorian’s defense, but I swallow them down. Why would I defend Dorian? Martin’s right, isn’t he? Haven’t I called Dorian the same thing in my head?
Memories of Dorian catching me beneath the aerial hoop flood my mind. Then earlier ones of him thanking me for saving his life, accepting my gift of Lumies, buying them again tonight. I admit there’s more to Dorian than I know. Probably a lot of terrible things, yes, but other things too. Softer things I’ve rarely seen hints of.
“He’s not what you think,” I say, surprised when the words leave my mouth.
“I still think you can do better. In fact, Iknow—”
“Whom I love is my business,” I say, taking on a more serious tone.
He narrows his eyes. “You love him then?”
I’m left gaping, at a loss for words. “I…I’m still getting to know him.”
He pulls me hard against him, pressing my chest to his. His breath hits my face, heavy with alcohol. “If it’s passion you need, I can give you that. I’ve kept my distance because you said no kissing and no attachments. Now it’s clear that’s not what you truly want. I can be far more for you than he could.”
I push his chest, forcing space between us again. “I don’t like you like that, Martin,” I say through my teeth.
“And you like him that way? A man you’ve known for only a handful of days?” He stops and brings his hand to my cheek. The smell of his liquor-infused breath invades my senses. I turn my head, evading his touch, but he reaches for the other cheek as well, framing my face.
“Martin, stop.”
“I know you, Pearl. I’ve known you almost an entire year.”
“You don’t know me at all.” I shove both of his hands off my face, but he closes in again. Before his hands make contact, he lurches several feet back. It takes me a moment to realize Dorian stands before him, palm at the center of his chest.
“Get your hands off her,” he says, voice a deep growl.
Martin sneers at Dorian. “Get your hands offme.”
“I will if you get away from her.”
“Go home, Martin,” I add, crossing my arms. “You’re drunk and making a fool of yourself.”
He glances between me and Dorian, then finally shrugs out of Dorian’s grip. Glowering, he smooths the front of his shirt and stalks away.
I glare at his back until he’s out of sight.
Dorian slowly turns to face me. “Are you all right?”
I nod. While I don’t feel I was in too much danger from Martin's advances, I’m grateful they ended so abruptly. I’ll have to tell Nadia, Klaus, and Stanley about his behavior. Martin has never acted the way he did tonight, but my friends should be warned about his true nature.
Dorian studies me with a furrowed brow. After a few silent moments, he asks, “May I have the rest of this dance?”
