"You okay?" Octavian asks quietly.
"I'm fine."
"You still seem nervous."
"I'm not," I insist, and it's true. It's not the event that's getting to me, it's this damn man next to me.
His presence is like a constant gravitational pull. How is that possible for someone at my side who's silent, observing?
I don't have too much time to think as a man steps into our path, cutting off my thoughts.
He's in his mid-fifties, expensive suit, too much cologne. His smile is too creepy and his gaze lingers too long on the curve of my dress.
He leans in to speak.
"Ms. Killaney, I've been hoping to catch you all evening. Your foundation's work in South Boston is truly inspiring."
I don't recognize him, which immediately sets off warning bells.
"I'm sorry, have we met?"
"Not formally." He extends a hand. "Taylor Floridin. I represent several investors interested in expansion efforts here in Boston."
I shake his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Floridin, and thank you. We're very proud of what we've accomplished," I say and try to let go, but he holds it.
His gaze drifts up and down my body, and before I can even react, Octavian slides his arm around my waist. My body knows before my mind does, feeling the heat and tension. His hand spreads across my hip possessively, and pulls me against his side.
I lean into him instinctively. The contact steals my breath, and fire courses through me.
I have to fight to keep my expression neutral, even as my skin prickles from the heat.
Floridin's smile doesn't falter, but he instantly releases my hand. "Of course," he says and looks up at Octavian. "Lucky man."
He pauses for a moment and looks at me. "Well, I'll let you enjoy your evening."
I watch as he disappears into the crowd.
I don't move out of Octavian's hold. Neither does he. His grip tightens slightly, and I swear I feel his thumb brush against the curve of my waist.
I tilt my head to look up at him.
Am I pretending? Is he pretending?
I don't know, but having him at my side, being this close to him for this long, it's not as bad as I thought.
And Jesus, his arm is solid.
Suddenly the band stops playing and the stage lights come up.
It's my time. I do this, and afterward, I'm supposed to meet with the Shadowharbor people.
Jackie takes the stage, and people clap as we walk toward it. She then smiles and stretches her arms out.
"Come on up here, Keira, and say a few words," she says, and more clapping is heard.
I break away from Octavian, and as I ascend the steps, I realize the empty feeling I have of being out of his grip.
I walk across the stage, and the lights are blinding.
