Page 39 of Watch Me Burn
I start moving without conscious thought, determined to reclaim what’s mine when Cade appears at my elbow.
“A word?”
We move to a quieter corner of the ballroom. It’s only because I’m eager to hear what he thinks after the time he spent with Luna that I let him delay me from going to her, but my gaze stays on her.
Cade glances toward her, then back to me. “She’s remarkable.”
“Yes, she is.” I don’t bother hiding the pride, the hunger, and the possessiveness in my voice.
“That’s the problem, Damien. You’re in too deep. I can see it in how you look at her. This definitely isn’t just about sex anymore.”
“I already told you that.”
“But I don’t know if I’d call it love either. It’s different seeing you with her in person, not just watching you watch her through monitors like some lovesick stalker.” He meets my gaze. “You’re losing it. The look you were giving that photographer—it’s the same look you get right before you kill someone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m serious. You looked ready to walk over there and rip his head off with your bare hands.”
Because I was.
“Your point?”
“My point is, you can’t hide yourself from her much longer. Not when you’re two seconds from murdering harmless photographers. So, what’s your plan? She’s not stupid, Damien. I’ve seen her studying you tonight, like she’s trying to make sense of what she’s seeing.”
I rake my hand through my hair. How many times are we going to have this conversation?
“I’m working on it, Cade. So back the fuck off. I’ll tell her when I’m ready.”
“When? Because this thing between you two—” He gestures between Luna and me. “—is a lit fuse, and it’s going to explode in your face. Allour faces.”
“I said I’ll handle it.” The words come out steady, but my gut tells a different story.
Cade sighs. “Now that I’ve met her, I see why she’s captivated you. She’s everything you said she was. Brilliant, passionate, genuine, but you need to pull it together.”
Luna approaches, a glass of champagne in her hand, her eyes bright.
“There you are. I was thinking you’d abandoned me to the wolves.”
I’m the only wolf in your life, little doe.
“Never. Just fulfilling my duties as host.”
“Well, you’re very good at it, even if you hate every minute.” She touches my arm, and even through the layers of my tuxedo, the heat of her fingers seeps into my skin. Her touch is the worst kind of agony, but I want to drown in the pain. “I just met Senator Howard. He told me the foundation is funding a new wildlife corridor through three counties. That’s incredible, Damien. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Admiration flickers in her expression—the kind that reaches straight through my ribs and squeezes. When she looks at me like that, like I’m someone worthy of her respect and her affection, I almost believe it myself. I forget the darkness, the blood on my hands, and the lies I’ve built between us. For a few moments, at least.
“It still has to clear state and federal hurdles. I don’t like tempting fate.” I hold out my hand. “Dance with me.”
The words stop her mid-sip. She blinks, not expecting the invitation. After a moment’s pause, she places the glass on a server’s tray and slides her fingers into mine. Her touch is warm, with the barest tremor running through it.
“I should warn you, I’m terrible at dancing like this.” She steps closer. “Put on some Taylor Swift or Rihanna, and I’ll show you moves that’ll make your head spin, but this fancy footwork?” She glances down between us. “You might be sorry you didn’t wear steel-toed shoes.”
I guide her onto the polished floor. “I’ll take my chances.”
She barely reaches my shoulders, her hand small and delicate in mine. Despite her protests, her movements are graceful, her body responding to my lead like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
The orchestra swells with something slow and haunting. She settles into my arms, her free hand coming to rest over my racing heart.
