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The Locklear’s manor is bigger than the Bryce’s and it’s obvious they’re trying to make a good impression, busy preening the girl and telling her to behave even though she doesn’t need their lectures.
Her hand rests on my arm as we walk up the gravel walk that’s edged with pitch torches and some of the guests are taking a breather out in the gardens or socializing on the porch. The girl is nervous, probably worried about what they will say when they see us together but I will behave.
Unless something happens that makes me misbehave. There’s always that possibility.
I get introduced to the Locklear couple and their daughters that are of marital age and they all look at me with the same greedy eyes that the Bryce’s watch the girl. To her it’s bothersome when they do that, to me it’s amusing but then again I’m a man. I have control over my life while she doesn’t.
I turn to the girl when I feel her fingers dip into my arm and I excuse us and she lets out a breather.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, “I wish we didn’t have to come. I wish we could have stayed home.”
Shrugging, I rasp, “You’re the one who didn’t want to stir up any suspicions.”
She nods, adding under her breath, “Maybe it would have been safer if we hadn’t. Everyone’s staring at us.”
“Let them look their fill then. They won’t dare to say anything.”
“Because you’re here?” she whispers and I nod because I watch my territory like a starving animal. I’ll protect her from everything, evil eyes, gossip, any kind of cruelty thrown her way. It’s what I was put on this earth to do.
“Can we get something to drink?” she asks and I nod, leading her to the table where they serve refreshments. I pour some bourbon for myself, moving to grab her a soda when she stops me. And her eyes are wide and a little mischievous, making me realize I’ve already corrupted her.
Inwardly shaking my head, I allow her to take a couple of sips of my drink when nobody’s watching. Considering how it went last time I shouldn’t let her do this but I don’t want to be strict with her. Licking her lips, she looks at me with a sweet expression on her face and I feel some rare emotion but I recognize it to be deep tenderness. And nothing but tenderness.
Taking a breath, the girl’s eyes dart and she takes a step away from me and I realize we’ve been standing too close.
“You look very handsome tonight,” she whispers and then she goes red like she just said something too honest. “I bet some of the other girls are going to ask you to dance.” She looks crestfallen and I’m tempted to snatch her to me and whisper in her ear that she doesn’t need to be concerned since she already got me in knots and wrapped around her finger.
“I’ll refuse their advances if you refuse the males.”
Not that she needs to do anything. I won’t let anyone near her anyway. I’ll piss in a circle around her right in front of everyone if I have to.
“All right,” she breathes, “whatever you want.”
Compliant. Maybe she’sreallyconcerned I’ll cause chaos. When music starts to flare, Zinnia automatically starts to sway to the slow rhythm.
Its old fashioned music that most people don’t listen to but it’s common at these kinds of parties. I hold out my hand and the girl stares at it like it’s something dangerous. “You’re allowed to say no,” I tell her with a gentle smile, “but then you’ll hurt my feelings.”
She throws a look around the room. Several of the other girls are already dancing with other men and she might as well give me this, one dance. My fingers cage around her hand when she gives it to me and I lead her out to the dancefloor.
Just like me she has been trained in ballroom dance that much is obvious and our movements are fluid and in sync. Whenever I twirl her back into my arms, I feel her chest against mine, feel her heart beat frantically like a little bird in a cage.
I have never loved anyone more than I have loved her. I loved her from the moment our eyes met on the first day I came to the Bryce’s and I loved her the moment I saw her photo. And even before that...
Pulling her in a little bit closer, she leans her head against my shoulder, closing her eyes. And it’s a good thing she’s not watching because we have drawn some attention. I give everyone who’s staring dark looks, inching my hand lower down her waist, resting it on her hip until I’m close to cupping her ass and she gasps...
Pushing against my chest, she looks at me in astonishment before leaving the dancefloor. Her heady perfume, leaves a trail behind and I follow. She’s standing in a corner with her arms crossed and looking at me with accusatory eyes. She’s not happy that I touched her tight, little ass.
“Bram, you know you have to behave with these people,” she says. “You know what they’re like.”
“Yes and they’re all uptight and bored with their lives.” I shake my head. “You have no business caring about what they think.”
“My future is at stake!” she says heatedly and I tense. Does she still think I’m going to allow her to marry that moron? My hands clamp around my drink and luckily the porcelain is of better quality, otherwise I would have probably crushed it.
“Like I’ve said many times now. Your future is mine.”
She looks like she wants to bury her face in her hands, her pretty face that I never can get enough of. It reminds me a little bit of the past and when my eyes go to the dancefloor I can almost see them there.
They’re twirling just the two of them, she in a shimmery, crimson dress with dark hair cascading down her back and he in one of his finest suits. I’m standing by the staircase, looking at them through the rails and their adoration spikes the air. When he bends her over, her throat gets exposed and she carries that special mark. He has made her his. They’re meant for each other, just like the girl and I.
