He grins, catching my hand where it rests against his chest and bringing it to his mouth. He presses a kiss to my knuckles, his tusks grazing lightly against my skin, and my entire nervous system lights up in response.
"Thrall," I warn, glancing around to make sure no one's watching this deeply unprofessional display. "We're working."
"You're working. I'm appreciating my favorite event planner."
"I'm youronlyevent planner."
"Exactly." He lowers my hand but doesn't release it, his thumb tracing absent circles against my palm. "Come with me to the reception."
"I have to monitor the breakout sessions and make sure the catering staff doesn't run out of?—"
"Kiera can handle it. She's terrifyingly competent. I wonder where she learned that." His eyes gleam with amusement. "Come with me. Let me show you off."
I hesitate, mentally running through the afternoon schedule. The breakout sessions are already in progress, the catering is stocked, the AV is stable, and Kiera genuinely is capable of handling any minor emergencies.
"Fifteen minutes," I concede. "Then I need to check on the evening gala setup."
"Deal."
He keeps hold of my hand as we navigate through the backstage area, his grip warm and solid and possessive in a way that should probably annoy me but instead makes me feel grounded. Safe. Claimed.
The VIP reception is being held in a smaller, more intimate ballroom adjacent to the main event space. I designed it specifically for networking—soft lighting, comfortable seating clusters, circulating appetizers, and an open bar stocked with premium options. The investors are already mingling when we enter, and several heads turn immediately toward Thrall.
He's magnetic like this, commanding attention without even trying. But instead of releasing my hand and diving into the schmoozing, he keeps me tucked against his side as he moves through the room.
"Thrall," I hiss quietly, "you're supposed to be networking."
"I am networking. With you. Right here."
"That's not?—"
"Thrall!" One of the investors, a broad-shouldered Orc with silver-streaked hair and expensive cufflinks, approaches with an extended hand. "Exceptional keynote. The ethical AI frameworkyou're developing is exactly the kind of forward-thinking approach the industry needs."
Thrall shakes his hand firmly. "Appreciate it, Arga. Have you met Romee Lin? She's the CEO of Lin Event Solutions. Everything you're seeing today—the flawless execution, the seamless production—that's all her vision."
I blink, momentarily thrown by the introduction. I'm used to being acknowledged as "the planner," but the way Thrall frames it, the genuine pride in his voice, makes it sound like I built something monumental.
Which, I suppose, I did.
Arga turns to me with obvious interest. "Lin Event Solutions? I've heard exceptional things. You're the one who organized the Cascade Tech merger gala last month, correct?"
"I am." I extend my hand, slipping automatically into professional mode. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
We talk for several minutes about event logistics and corporate culture, and I'm vaguely aware of Thrall watching me with that same intense focus he brings to everything. He doesn't interrupt, doesn't try to steer the conversation back to himself. He just stands there, solid and present, letting me shine.
When Arga finally excuses himself to grab another drink, I turn to Thrall with narrowed eyes.
"You're doing this on purpose."
"Doing what?"
"Introducing me as an equal. Making sure people know I'm not just 'the planner' you hired."
"You're not just the planner I hired," he says simply. "You're the woman I love, who also happens to run the most competent event company in the city. Why wouldn't I introduce you properly?"
My chest does something complicated and warm. "You're going to make me cry during a professional event."
"Please don't. You'll ruin your intimidating reputation." But his hand tightens around mine, and I can see the genuine affection in his eyes.
