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"With the Duchess of Mondego," she said.

Omar lowered the twin weapons, but Lark stayed on high alert.

"Oh,” he said. “I thought one of the scoundrels had snared you."

It was slight, almost imperceptible, but his fingertips curled into the fabric of her dress where he held her at the small of her back.

"I'm not some damsel or princess that needs to be rescued," she said. "If I’m going to star in any story it’s going to be as the wizard."

He threw his head back and laughed again. As a counterbalance, he pulled her closer to him.

Bells went off in her head. They weren't alarming. Come to think of it, the sound wasn't exactly a bell. It was more of a gong announcing that something big was commencing. Lark gave her head a shake to silence the reverberations.

"I think we should keep things professional between us," she said.

Omar nodded. His gaze softening but not his hold. "You know whether you said yes or no would not impact my decision to work with you."

Work with him. Not for him. More than his hold, or his moves on the dance floor, that statement made her heart skip a beat.

"I'm taking a shot on you because I believe in your talent,” he continued. “You misunderstood my invitation. I'm the one who needs rescuing."

"You?" said Lark.

"Yes, you see –" Omar began but was interrupted.

“There you are."

Summer breezed in between them, like a stifling wind on a humid day. Her floral scent caught in Lark’s throat, making her gag.

"Everyone here is a bore,” Summer continued. “Let's hop on your jet for a night in Paris like old times. We'll come back in time for the royal wedding."

Omar sighed looking exhausted. All traces of his laughter and delight gone from his features. His brows looked like broken bows. His hold on Lark firmed like she was his lifeline.

Lark stiffened. That's when he finally let her loose. She knew he would never hold her again

st her will. He would never hold anything over her or away from her. If she wanted to, she could lean back in his strong arms, and he'd support her. Just as she could press forward and he'd make way or give her a boost.

Looking Summer up and down, Lark knew the woman had walked all over him. The red stilettos she wore were primed to do it again. Summer wasn’t the only one.

Lark looked around the room. She saw past the men who were again sneaking hungry glances at her now that Omar’s hold was loosening. Now, she also noticed the gazes of the women.

Omar was trying to avoid the stares and the snares just as she was. And that included Summer. If he let Lark go, they both would be avoiding traps for the rest of the night. That was the reason she gave herself for what she was about to do.

Lark gripped Omar's hand, returning it to the small of her back. Then she snaked her arm around his neck.

Sorry," she said to Summer. "He's taken for the night. And he's also taking me to the wedding."

Chapter Seven

"Patriarchy is inevitable."

The groans of disapproval, as well as the murmurs of assent, were all deep, gravely, and guttural. Unlike the changing of the times outside these halls, the floor of the Córdovian parliament was decidedly, overwhelmingly male.

"It is a truth you're all ignoring. Male dominance is a biological occurrence."

Lord Panek’s voice was a few octaves higher than his colleagues’ in the large chamber. To Omar, the middle-aged man sounded like an adolescent boy making threats from behind his nanny's apron strings.

"There is evidence across all ancient and modern societies, including anthropological evidence.” Panek went on. “Why go against natural law?"

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