Page 88 of Coveted

He’s watching me. I can feel it as surely as I feel the fabric of the dress on my skin.

“Would you like to dance?” asks the guy.

“Sure,” I say.

Even as I accept, I know it’s probably a mistake. This guy doesn’t deserve to be on Lucan’s radar just because I want to prove a point.

But I’m in too deep now.

So even though I feel a creeping dread as the guy takes my hand and guides me to where the music is louder and the lights are lower, I go with him.

We barely make it two steps when the guy falters. Since I’m looking down, I gently shunt into his back.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, stepping next to him.

His grip on my hand loosens. “Nothing, I just⁠—”

But whatever he sees makes him change his mind about dancing with me, fast.

Lucan stands directly in the guy’s way, giving him a dead-eyed glare.

The guy’s smile becomes fixed, and he quickly sidesteps me.

“Actually,” he says, “I just remembered I, um, promised someone I’d⁠—”

“Dance?” I ask.

His laughter is thin and forced. “Yeah. Sorry.”

And like that, he’s gone, as insubstantial as a memory.

Renewed frustration kills my champagne glow. That’s all Lucan has to do? Shoot a single glance? I didn’t think it’d be that simple for him.

My friends were right. All I did was reinforce his belief that he controls everything.

I give Lucan a dirty look and a middle finger.

Although his grim expression remains unaltered, something changes in his eyes. A knowingness, as if reminding me that I started this.

He moves through the guests toward me, and I hold my ground, not stepping back or looking away.

“Why were you speaking to that sock puppet?” asks Lucan with a snarl, like he’s been chewing on the words since I locked eyes with the guy.

“Because I felt like it. And he’s not a sock puppet. He’s a grad student of, um, something very impressive,” I finish pathetically.

Lucan thrusts his finger at my doomed flirting partner. “He could be my cousins’ murderer, for all you know. You should watch who you talk to.”

“And you should watch how you talk to me,” I say. “You don’t get to decide what’s best, where I’m concerned.”

“Maybe not, but I do get to decide who gets close to you.”

“Let me guess.” My voice drips with condescension. “Nobody’s allowed.”

“Not without my approval and a thorough background check. I thought we established that.”

I shake my head. “Right, and that’s definitely just for my safety. It’s got nothing to do with the fact that you’re a controlling psychopath.”

Lucan runs both hands through his midnight hair, like he’s having to work harder than usual to contain himself.