Something shifts in her eyes, a vulnerability I rarely get to see. “Dom...”

I lean down, pressing my forehead against hers. “You’re worth ten of him, Tatiana. A hundred.”

Her lower lip does this quivery thing, and she starts blinking rapidly again. She suddenly closes her eyes.

I catch movement in my peripheral vision. The ex has spotted us. His expression goes from shock to calculation in seconds, and he starts making his way in our direction.

Fucking predictable.

“He’s coming over,” I murmur. “Can I punch him in the face?”

Tatiana tenses again. “Please Dom. Don’t make a scene. I just... I don’t want to speak to him.”

I straighten, keeping one arm firmly around Tatiana as I turn to face the approaching man. Jake and Grant move smoothly, intercepting him before he can get within ten feet of us.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I hear Jake say politely but firmly. “This area is currently restricted.”

The ex frowns, looking confused. “I just want to say hello to an old friend.”

“I understand, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to move along.”

I guide Tatiana away, leading her toward a quieter corner of the room. There’s no one close enough to eavesdrop on us. “You don’t have to talk to him. Not today. Not ever.”

She looks up at me, a mixture of gratitude and curiosity in her eyes. “Thank you. But why do you care?”

The question catches me off guard. Why do I care? Because seeing her hurt makes something primal and protective roar to life inside me? Because the thought of anyone disrespecting her makes me want to tear them apart? Because somewhere along the way, this temporary arrangement has become all too real for me?

“We have an agreement,” I say instead, cowardly again. My voice little more than a whisper. “Your wellbeing affects our arrangement.”

Her expression shutters, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.

Again.

But I had to.

Had to.

Coward.

“Right,” she says flatly. Softly. She looks around to make sure no one is close enough to hear. “Thearrangement.”

I scan the room, making sure the ex is still being kept at bay. Jake has him engaged in conversation now, effectively distracting him while Grant maintains position, blocking any potential approach.

“Do you want to leave?” I ask again. “We’ve made our appearance. We can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

She considers it, then shakes her head. “No. I want to at least say hello to Christopher and Lucy. I won’t let Rylan ruin this, too.”

I admire her resilience even as I wish she would let me take her away from here, away from the pain etched in the tightness around her eyes.

“All right,” I concede. “But I’m staying by your side.”

“Playing the protective husband?” she asks, a hint of bitterness in her tone.

I meet her gaze steadily. “Yes.”

Something in my voice must convince her, because her expression softens slightly.

“Lead the way then, husband,” she says, the word sounding like both an endearment and an accusation.