“What?” Nick asks with furrowed brows, still clueless.
“I’m going to be sick,” I say, my hand flying to my stomach.
Then I whip around and make a run for it. Randomly, I head in the opposite direction to Mason, aimlessly hastening toward pockets of crowds, busy in polite chatter and whispered laughs. Anywhere but here.
Did anyone notice?
I search for Dan. He is in the far corner, deep in conversation with three businessmen. Grandpa is back with Lord Devereux. Mason’s father is with a man in a pocket-watch suit and Thomas Pike near the balcony. None of them is looking.Yet.
But the guards on the steps are. I slow my pace a little and give them a pursed smile until I find a hallway. Unable to walk two more steps in these bloody heels, I rip them off my feet and break into a sprint. I glance over my shoulder, my breath coming harsher. He’s following steadily behind me. Sharp, unflinching eyes tracking my steps.
He could catch up with me in a flash, but he’s enjoying the hunt. Taking pleasure in making me run.
“Watch out, miss,” a voice calls, when I almost run into one of the staff carrying empty glasses on a tray. I hold one palm up, and splutter a quick apology, but don’t slow down. Veering a sharp left, I head down a quieter hallway, carrying my shoes in one hand, hoping to find a ladies’ room I can hide in.
But I’m out of time.
One look over my shoulder and I trip over my own feet. Mason grabs me by the elbow before I fall.
“Caught you, little dove,” he snarls into my hair.
I shriek as he lifts me off the floor, whirls me around, and shoves me into the nearest room.
He sets me on my feet in the center of the dark room. My head spins around in all directions, in the large, cold, stately room that carries a faint scent of vanilla. We are in Lord Devereux’s study.
He shuts the door with a loud clack.
“Mason, your hand.” I gasp as he drips blood on the pristine beige carpet.
His eyes move to his palm. He rips a shard out and chucks it on the floor, then continues to storm toward me like a man on the verge. I flinch away until my back hits the desk, and my shoes drop to the floor. And then he is towering over me.
Tension crackles like electricity in the air between us, claiming my every breath.
“What did I say about letting another man touch you?” he growls.
“I didn’t.”
“You did,” he spits, inching closer. “A few days back with your family and you’ve already forgotten who you belong to.”
His fingers curl around the diamond necklace on my neck, and he yanks it off, the chain grinding against my skin, leaving a long red mark. Diamonds stained with blood clank against the mahogany desk.
“You are coming with me. Right now.”
“No.” I shake my head. The heat radiating off him, the intensity in those brown eyes coursing through my bloodstream, raising my temperature.
“I wasn’t asking.” He begins working his phone.
“Mason, stop.” I snatch his mobile. “You can’t take me. I had to make up a lot of lies to convince everyone you didn’t kidnap me in the first place. Didn’t you see what happened out there? My family, yours, the guards. There are police outside…” I breathe out, but my words do nothing to quiet his rage.
“You should have thought about that before you let that slimy prick touch what’s mine,” he roars, then grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the door.
“No, wait…” I screech, pulling free of his hold, clutching the edge of the desk, and grounding my feet.
“Eva, don’t fuck with me,” he grits, leaning in. “No one will stop me from taking you tonight. I’ll kill any fucker who tries.”
He reaches for my elbow, but I wrap my hands around his neck, rise onto my toes, and press my lips to his. Smoke and whiskey hit me, bitter and burning, my own private flavor of ruin. He doesn’t kiss me back. Just lets me move my lips against his. Allowing me to savor his taste, dive into my twisted indulgence as I try to thaw him out of his rage.
But as soon as my tongue curls around his, he rips his mouth from mine, his hand flying to my throat, thumb landing on my pulse point.
