Page 109 of Vow Of Fire

The hedge fund asshole extended a hand. “Richard Davenport.”

I ignored it completely.

“Evelyn,” I said, placing my hand intimately on her back. “We need to talk.”

Her eyes narrowed at my tone.

“I’m in the middle of a conversation,” she replied pointedly.

Davenport shifted awkwardly, sensing the sudden drop in temperature. Smart man.

“It can wait,” he offered diplomatically. “Miss Cruz, perhaps we can continue this discussion another time?”

“I don’t think so,” I snapped.

His gaze darted to me before he backed away into the crowd.

The moment he’d disappeared, Evelyn rounded on me.

“What the hell was that?” she hissed. Angry green flames danced in her eyes. “You were so rude.”

I took the champagne flute from her hand and set it on a passing waiter’s tray without even looking. “He was flirting with you.”

“And?”

“I didn’t like it.”

Her mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be jealous right now.”

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “He touched you.”

“It was my arm, Dante, not my ass.”

The image hit me instantly and my jaw flexed. I felt myself stir.

Her eyes widened as she realized exactly where my mind had gone.

“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered. “You don’t get to act like a possessive caveman every time a man talks to me. You didn’t want me, remember? You have no say in who I talk to.”

A humorless smile tugged at my mouth. “I didn’t say I didn’t want you.”

Her eyes sharpened. “Well, you walked away.”

“Because I wanted you too fucking much.”

She stared at me. People drifted around us, oblivious to the tension crackling beneath our perfectly polished appearances. To anyone watching, we simply looked like an elegant couple having an intimate conversation.

Only Evelyn and I knew better.

“You’re wearing my family’s diamonds,” I murmured, reaching up to touch the necklace at her throat. “You came here tonight with me.” My fingers lingered briefly over her pulse. “When you’re with me, you don’t get to talk to other men.”

Her breath caught, but her chin still lifted defiantly. “You don’t own me.”

Jesus Christ.

That mouth. That fire.

I’d never admit how much I liked her refusal to submit. Every time she pushed back, it did something to me.