Page 97 of A Forbidden Arrangement

Outside, the air’s cool on my skin. Our driver’s already waiting with the door open. Xander settles me in first, then slides in beside me, pulling my legs over his lap. The city drifts by in streaks of light.

“You looked happy,” he says.

“I was.”

“You needed that.”

“I did.”

He nods, pleased. “Next time, ask me to dance.”

“Next time, let me go without shadowing the building.”

“No.”

I huff and lean back. His fingers circle the bare skin above my knee, thumb stroking arches. My mind is fixed on where he’s touching me, and I struggle to keep up with the conversation. He moves his hand higher up my leg, pushing up the hem of my dress. Heat rolls in my stomach, followed by a hint of frustration that he doesn’t bring it any higher. I twist and grip his collar and tug him until he is forced to face me. I suck in a breath when I meet his gaze that’s anything but indifferent. The tendons in his neck are pulled taut, a muscle ticking in his jaw as his hungry gaze swallows me.

A barely audible whimper escapes my mouth, but he hears it. The restraint he’s been holding on to slips, and his hand buriesunder my dress, moving all the way up my hip until his thumb brushes the edge of my underwear between my thighs.

If he just moves it just a little, he’ll feel how soaked I am. I’m dying for his touch, and I shift closer, trying to force his hand where I need it. His grip tightens, holding me in place.

The car slows and pulls into our driveway. I drop my head to his shoulder, groaning, and he chuckles.

I glare up at him. “This is your fault.”

Xander gives me a wolfish smile, entirely too pleased with himself.

He walks me to the door with his hand on my back.

I stop and turn. He’s close enough that his tie brushes my knuckles. “For the record,” I say, “I liked dancing without you.”

“I know.”

“I liked it more when you showed up.”

“I know that too.”

I make a face. He smiles anyway and kisses me like a man who’s waited years for me.

When we break apart, I’m breathless. He looks smug.

“Don’t get cocky,” I say.

“Too late.”

I grab his hand and pull him upstairs.

Chapter 42

Dahlia

We’re still laughingwhen we walk through the door, the sound carrying into the quiet house. It’s the kind of easy laughter that comes after too many teasing words in the car, the kind that softens all the edges between us.

Then the door clicks shut, and everything shifts. The air grows thick, buzzing with an undercurrent that burns through the lightness of moments ago.

Xander doesn’t speak. His jaw’s set, eyes dark with a quiet restraint as he watches me bend and slip off my heels, one at a time, eyes following every move.

I clear my throat. “You’re staring again.”