Page 6 of Made for Reign

The way she’s looking at me right now, those green eyes wide and uncertain, makes something primal stir in my gut.

I’ve been trying to keep my attraction in check since I walked over here, but it’s getting harder by the second. From the moment I spotted Elizabeth across the bar, something in me went on high alert. Not the kind of alert that comes from years of military training. This was something else entirely. Something that made my blood run hotter, and my focus narrow to a single point.

Her.

I’d been listening to Marcus go on about married life when my eyes locked with hers from across the bar. And in that moment, I felt the entire world tilt beneath my feet.

“You’re right, I do have a lot on my mind,” she admits quietly. Then she catches herself, and her cheeks flush pink. “I mean... I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not?” I lean forward slightly. “There’s nothing wrong with being honest.”

She bites her bottom lip, looking down at her hands. “I don’t normally talk to strangers about personal things.”

“I’m not exactly a stranger anymore. You bought me champagne, remember?”

That earns me a small smile, and some of the tension leaves her shoulders.

“My friends bought you champagne. I just went along with it.”

“But you looked right at me when your server pointed us out.”

Her blush deepens. “Was I that obvious?”

“Only to me.” I study her face. “And I’m glad you were.”

She looks up at that, surprise flickering across her features. “You are?”

“Absolutely. Otherwise, I’d still be sitting over there wondering what it would be like to talk to the most beautiful woman in this place.”

The compliment makes her duck her head, but she’s smiling now. “You’re very smooth.”

“I’m being honest.” I pause, watching her fidget with her napkin again. “Your friends seem to be enjoying themselves.” I nod toward the dance floor where the two women she was sitting with are laughing and moving to the music.

She smiles, and for the first time, it reaches her eyes. “They’re making the most of our last night together.”

“Why aren’t you out there with them?”

“Dancing isn’t really my thing.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Besides, someone had to guard the drinks.”

I find myself wanting to hear that laugh again. “So, what is your thing, if not dancing?”

She considers the question seriously. “I like painting. I just graduated with my Master’s Degree in Art History with a minor in Studio Art.”

“Art, huh? Impressive. So I’m guessing you paint pretty often?”

“I used to. I mean, I still do, but just for fun now.” She looks wistful. “I always dreamed of having my own studio someday. You know, a real space where I could just create without worrying about making a mess.”

Something tightens in my chest at the longing in her voice. I file that information away.

She studies me over the rim of her glass. “What about you? How do you spend your time?”

“Security consulting,” I say, the standard answer I give to civilians. “My partner and I run our own firm.”

“The partner who just got married?”

I nod. “Marcus. We served together, started the business when we got out.”

“Marines?” she guesses.

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