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I recoil, putting as much additional space between us as possible, but we’re unfortunately crammed close together with the crowds all lining the hall. “Jemmy,” I choke out. I swallow, hoping to moisten my throat, but I can’t. It feels tight — hard to breathe all of a sudden, and hot.
“I didn’t know you’d be attending this evening,” he says with a snake oil smugness. “I’m in town at the request of the conductor, of course. He asked me to come and do some work with the librarian to prepare a few pieces for their next concert.”
“How lovely for you,” I murmur. I work my feet back a few inches, but it’s not enough. I’d heard lines like this from him so many times before, believing every single one, but I know now this is a lie. They were all lies. He’s nothing but an insecure worm. I turn away from him and scan the crowd for Connor. I need my lion.
He runs a finger down the back of my bare arm. I cringe. “Well, look who’s gotten all sexed up with a little peek-a-boo tattoo,” he says. His eyes scan my body like an x-rated x-ray machine. My skin erupts in goose bumps, feeling dirty. “You know, we can head back to your hotel,” Jemmy leans forward, his acrid breath touching my skin. Shivers of disgust travel down my spine. “For old times’ sake. Are you here with anyone?”
Before I can turn back around, I feel his fingers lift quickly from my body. When I spin to look at what’s happening, I see Jemmy’s hand being squeezed tightly in Connor’s oversized paw. My lion. I let out a long, hard breath.
“No, as a matter of fact, she’s not here alone, asshole,” I hear Connor growl. Jemmy swallows and turns five shades of white. “My question is why you think you can touch her.”
“My apologies. I didn’t realize…” Jemmy begins, his voice leveling up an octave.
Connor leans forward, his penetrating gaze casting daggers into Jemmy’s eyes. “I know who you are you sorry son of a bitch. I know what you did to her. And, so everything’s clear, I want you to know who I am and exactly what I can do to you.” Connor’s knuckles begin to whiten with the pressure he’s putting on Jemmy’s hand. It’s his bow hand.
Connor’s voice turns to a menacing growl. “I am the man who knows a treasure when he sees one. The man who is going to take this beautiful woman home tonight and give her everything you never could. I can do great and terrible things to you, Jemmy. So, if you ever even so much as have a wet dream about Raven, I’ll personally ensure you never play the violin again.” He leans in and whispers something I can't hear, then gives his wrist a tweak before letting it go with a snap.
Jemmy rubs aggressively at his hand, now free of Connor’s grip, and backs up knocking into several people in the crowd. Connor’s arm is around me, his glare at Jemmy sending death warnings like arrows.
“I’m sorry, Raven,” Jemmy mumbles through the crowd. “I’m very, very sorry.”
Even after we’ve been in the town car a few minutes, Connor is breathing hard and keeps clenching and unclenching his fist. I’m too shaken to enjoy a nightcap now, so we head back to our hotel.
“Are you all right?” Connor asks for the fifth time as we pull up to the hotel.
“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not the one who was nearly eaten by a lion,” I quip.
Connor guides us into our room and flicks on the light. He pulls hard to loosen his tie. God, he’s gorgeous tonight. He fills out a black suit perfectly. The King of Beasts, properly attired in glorious splendor.
“Thank you for what you did for me tonight. I told you I was a coward,” I say apologetically. My eyes dip to my feet. “I don’t have the strength. I didn’t know what to say.”
His thumb and forefinger angle my chin upward so I’m looking directly at him. “You are wonderful, Raven. I’ll always be there for you, just like you’re there for me.”
He leans down and kisses me, softly and gently. Flutters of need begin low in my belly.
“Are you sure you’re OK?” He asks for the umpteenth time.
I nod and hum, snuggling into the heat of his body, my cheek burrowing into the dress shirt buttoned over his chest. His hardness, his scent, the feel of skin has me tingling all over. The familiar burn he ignites lighting up inside me. I look up and smile.
“What?” He quirks a brow.
“You are the man who is going to take me home and love me like he never could, remember?” I offer playfully. I slip out of my heels. Connor’s fingers trace along the hidden zipper along my side. One hand slips into the back of my dress and caresses his mark.
Connor’s stony expression finally eases and he gives me an amused grin. When I see it, I know everything is good again. “I am.”
“Then you should get to loving me,” I say, lifting up onto my toes and kissing him
