Before she could respond, I was out of the car. “Move,” I snapped at the valet, who was about to open the door for her. His eyes widened and he stumbled back a couple of steps, hands raised in a placating gesture.
I opened the door for Lucy. She arched her eyebrows as she took my hand. She leaned in, standing on her tiptoes, and her lips brushed against the shell of my ear. “That was hot.”
Fucking hell. Every cell in me responded to her murmured words. She was going to kill me before the night was over. She looped her arm through mine, leaning into my side and wearing a brilliant smile as we started down the red carpet.
The journalists salivated when they caught sight of her, and no wonder. She was the most gorgeous woman in attendance.
“Welcome Mr.King! Who is your date?”
“Mr.King! We hear you’re going to be auctioned off tonight!”
Lucy waved at the photographers and of course, they lost their minds, turning their questions on her. She glanced up at me. “Aren’t you going to answer them, honey?”
“No.” I wrapped my arm around her waist and half carried her inside. Not that it helped because the second we entered the large atrium, every single man fixed his eyes on her. A low growl tore through my chest. Lucy jumped, but I kept her tight against me, my fingers digging in to her waist. Her practicallybarewaist because of the sheer lace.
“Why were they calling you Mr.King? What’s your last name?”
“King is my last name.”
“Oh! What’s your first name, then?”
I didn’t respond as I steered us through the large ballroom.
“Come on. What kind of fake date am I if I don’t even know your name?”
I huffed, but it was all for show. Being around Lucy soothed the prickly anger and frustration I constantly carried around, leaving me…happy? Fuck, it had been so long since I’d felt like this I didn’t know what to do about it.
“Sutton.”
“Huh?”
“My first name is Sutton.”
She beamed, her nose doing an adorable scrunching thing. “That’s not even bad! Not as embarrassing as my middle name.”
“What is it?”
“Bluebell.”
A chuckle bubbled from my chest, and Lucy narrowed her eyes in outrage. “I didn’t laugh atyours.”
Without thinking, I leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. Even with her heels, she barely reached my chin. “Bluebell suits you.”
She pursed her lips but couldn’t hide the flush working down her neck and chest, drawing my eyes to her tits. I wanted to suck and bite them, cover her with my marks so all the assholes here knew they would never stand a chance.
I tore my gaze away. I never behaved like this. It must just be my alpha responding to her designation, but the excuse was like ash on my tongue. My assistant was an omega, as was my neighbor, andsomehow I’d never had the urge to kiss the top of their heads…or bend them over the closest table and fuck them so everyone knew who they belonged to.
I kept my arm around her as we made our way through the large event space. The decorations were pretty standard for a party like this—white tablecloths, large floral centerpieces, and an excessive amount of glasses and silverware at every place setting. Easels were set up along the back of the room, holding large pictures of kids with quotes about how cancer research had saved their lives.
I averted my gaze, focusing instead on getting to our table. Three women and two men were already seated—none of whom I recognized—but Lucy let out a soft gasp.
My fingers tightened on her hip. “What is it?”
“That’s Jacqueline Wu,” she whisper-shouted. “I can’t believe she’s here. Oh my god.”
“Who is she?”
Lucy’s jaw dropped. “Only one of the top couture designersin the world. She looks perfect, of course. She’s the one wearing the pale blue silk dress—it’s part of her new spring collection.”
