Page 4 of To Steal a Heart

Grandmother’s voice quivered with intensity. “You’re a Chasing. That comes with many perks but also with certain responsibilities that you can’t shirk. You owe it to yourself to find a man who’s worthy of you. Someone who’s your equal. Someone who will give you wings to fly, not cement you to the ground.”

Chills raised over Arden’s flesh. Grandmother’s words stirred something inside her. With that stirring came a wrath that bubbled acid into her throat. “Since when do you care about me?” She hated the moisture that rose in her eyes. How dare Grandmother meddle in her personal affairs. How dare she make Arden question her relationship with Hector. Yes, the two of them were very different. Sometimes Arden wished he were a little more exciting. Arden was passionate and believed in living life to the fullest. Hector was more sedate. So what if he didn’t like to dance? So what if his idea of a date was to stay home with a bowl of popcorn and watch a movie? Was being normal such a bad thing?

Grandmother eyed her with a pity that chafed Arden’s insides. “I do care. It’s my job as your grandmother to see that you marry wisely.”

A hard laugh scratched Arden’s throat. “Is that what this is about? Me finding a suitable husband? What is this … the dark ages?”

Josette lifted an eyebrow. “You can’t run from who you are. Now that Talon is in a good spot with Effie, it’s time for you to find your mate and settle down.”

Arden shook her head. “Wow. You really are something.” She forced a laugh. “Just because you’re my grandmother doesn’t mean that you know what’s best for me.”

Grandmother gave her a steely look that pierced her to the core. “I know you, Arden Clarissa Chasing, better than you know yourself.” Triumph lit her features. “Wanna know why? Because you and I are the same person … just a few years removed.”

Arden rocked back. “I’m nothing like you.” Grandmother was the last person Arden would ever want to be compared to.

Grandmother laughed. “Oh, you are. Through and through.” A smug smile wormed over her lips. “I’ll prove it. Do you think I don’t know what’s going through your head? You’re itching to spring out of your seat. You want to let loose and dance the night away.” She gave Arden a checkmate look. “Am I right?”

“T-that’s not exactly true,” Arden sputtered. Was she that transparent? She hadn’t even been tapping her foot to the beat of the music. How did Grandmother know?

Her wise-owl smile widened. “Yes, it is. The only reason why you’re not dancing is because he doesn’t want to.” She pointed her twisted finger at Hector.

Wow. Grandmother was good. She was much more intuitive than Arden gave her credit for being. Arden turned to Hector to get his reaction to Grandmother’s words. Even in the dim lighting, she could tell that his face was blistering red.

“Don’t let me hold you back,” he clipped, his dark eyes sparking irritation. “By all means, dance.” He pressed his lips together in tight lines, and she could almost see him drawing into himself.

Hector was about as dense as a block of concrete sometimes. Arden couldn’t believe he was getting angry at her over this. She clenched her teeth. “Don’t you see what’s happening here? She’s trying to drive us apart.” Arden caught hold of his arm. “You’re playing right into her hands.”

“He knows that I’m speaking the truth,” Grandmother croaked in a voice that reeked of old-money authority. Arden wasn’t fooled by Grandmother’s confidence, but she suspected Hector would be. Grandmother looked past Hector and motioned with her hand.

“What’s going on?” Arden demanded. What trick did Grandmother have up her sleeve? As if on cue, Wesley Laramie stepped up, wearing a gargantuan smile on his polished face. The pieces of the puzzle shifted into place, and Arden knew exactly what Grandmother was up to.

She whirled around. “Seriously? You think he’s my match?” She jutted her thumb at Wesley. “I don’t think so.” Wesley Laramie was a womanizing dufus. Sure he was wealthy and pretty to look at. But ew, he was a shallow jerk. Arden wanted a man she could build a future with—someone she could count on, not some privileged dufus who had less self-control than an alley cat.

“No one said anything about marrying him,” Grandmother said pleasantly. “Just dance with him.”

“No!” Arden exploded.

Grandmother clutched Arden’s arm, digging in her sharp fingernails. “Dance with Wesley, and I’ll play nice with Hector.”

Arden jerked. “Are you serious?” She eyed Grandmother, trying to decide if she could trust her.

“I give you my word,” Grandmother said solemnly.

Wesley bowed slightly and held out his hand with a flourish. “May I have this dance?”

Arden turned to Hector.

“Do it,” he growled.

She smirked. “It seems as though I’ve been given little choice.” Here’s where Hector should’ve stood up and taken control. Why wasn’t he the one asking her to dance?

Wesley took hold of her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. He encircled her waist and pulled her to him as he raked her up and down with brazen eyes of appreciation. “You look like a million bucks,” he murmured.

“Don’t even think about it,” Arden snapped.

He laughed as the charming mask vanished to reveal the scoundrel she knew all too well. “Always the same ole’ Arden,” he sneered.

She arched an eyebrow. “Always the same ole’ Wesley.” They eyed one another with the knowledge that only a lifetime of growing up together could bring. Arden took a step back to put a respectable amount of distance between them. “Much better.”

---