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She looked for Franco after a while, feeling she hadn’t seen him in too long. She’d listened to his speech and knew he was around.
She expected him to come back to the table. Didn’t he want to talk with her and get to know her? Was she starting to misread things?
Remain calm, Violet. He’s a busy, popular man.
Her eyes searched the dance floor and all the tables. She figured maybe he was sitting with someone chatting about his next race. Probably deep in conversation.
Her eyes weren’t expecting to find him on the dance floor. Seeing another woman in his arms, her stomach sank. They were chatting as they danced, and her fingers tightened on her glass.
He was laughing, and Violet felt bile rise in the back of her throat. Was he enjoying the company of another woman?
Her tiger raged inside, ready to storm across the room and rip that woman from his arms. She wanted to scream and lose her control, but she couldn’t. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly.
That woman wasn’t single. He wasn’t in the arms of some free woman who would bend over for him. She knew who he was dancing with.
She was the host’s wife, Charley. She was a beautiful woman but deeply, madly in love with her husband. She’d seen them eating together a few tables away.
They were laughing the entire meal, and she could see the love those two shared. They had that sparkle in their eyes. And the ring on her finger said it as well. It sparkled as Franco twirled her, sending an ache deep in her bones. She wished for that. To be in Franco’s arms with a ring and happy like the rest of the world didn’t matter.
She looked away, finishing her drink. This was probably part of the schmoozing he had to do. Dancing with women and appearing happy.
He could at least try to look like it wasn’t the most amazing thing in the world.
She shook her head, hating how she sounded. She didn’t want to be that jealous girl. That wasn’t her. This was just her tiger talking.
She leaned back in her chair as the dance ended. She felt she could relax. Maybe he would come back to the table, and she could talk with him. They could finally have a conversation.
But as Charley turned to leave, another woman walked up to him as the next song started. Violet’s lips tightened, and her jaw clenched. Another song and another woman each time. After four, she was ready to claw their eyes out. There was no way he was doing all of that for sponsors.
Someone cleared their throat next to her, and she pulled her eyes up. A waiter stood next to her, holding a smile. “Would you like another drink?”
She looked down at her glass. She could go for another drink. She would love to just wallow in alcohol and stew. She knew better.
If she sat there drinking, she was going to grow angrier. And the more frustrated she became, the more the possibility rose that she would do something stupid.
She shook her head, handing him her glass. “No, I’m good, actually.”
The waiter smiled at her before turning to leave. She looked back at the dance floor, and another girl stepped up to dance with Franco.
She wondered if she could get herself a dance partner and make him jealous. She sat with the idea for a while but thought better of it. Maybe he wasn’t the jealous type. Besides, it probably wouldn’t even work.
She thought of getting in line, but she didn’t like the idea. If Franco wanted to see her, he would at least look at her. He would just have to look across the dance floor and look at her and mouth that he was sorry.
Franco hadn’t even looked in her direction since he left, and it bit at her. With each dance and every song, she felt the irritation sinking further into her skin. He wasn’t making any attempt to get back to her.
She understood this was important for him, but wasn’t she? She was his fated mate, dammit. Didn’t he want to get to know her?
She pushed herself up and walked onto the dance floor. She walked around, hoping maybe she could catch his attention. She hated how desperate she was acting.
She looked at the line waiting to dance with him, her stomach sinking more. She couldn’t wait that long to talk to him.
When the song ended, the gal dancing with Franco laughed. “You are an amazing dancer.”
She’d had enough. She stormed past the line, and a girl grabbed her arm. “Hey! You can’t just cut the line. Who do you think you are?”
She turned, looking at the girl, and flashed her tiger eyes at her. The line bounced back as she growled at them, having no control over her temper anymore.
Her tiger claws grew, which made all of them take an extra step back. After knowing she’d proven her point, she turned, and Franco stood there staring at her.
