Page 8 of My Hired Valentine

The words stick in my throat. I’m too caught up in the way he’s looking at me, the way he’s making me feel.

“Violet,” he murmurs, his voice low, coaxing.

I don’t respond with words. Instead, I close the space between us, my lips finding his in a kiss that’s hesitant at firstbut quickly deepens as he pulls me closer. His arms wrap around me, and I feel safe. Wanted.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “Let’s go back in before people start talking,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“Let them talk,” Dex says, taking my hand and leading me back inside anyway. And as we return to the table, I know this isn’t real. It’s not supposed to be. So why does it feel like everything I’ve ever wanted?

And for the first time tonight, I’m not sure which scares me more.

CHAPTER 8

Dex

Istep back into the ballroom, the noise and warmth hitting me like a wave after the crisp night air. I’d only been gone a few minutes, but my eyes immediately scan the room for Violet. I find her on the dance floor.

And my blood runs cold.

Wayne Harris has her pulled close, his hand too low on her back, his head dipping toward hers like he has every right to invade her space. Violet’s body is stiff, and her smile is forced. She’s trying to play nice, but I can see the tension in the tightness of her jaw and the way her fingers curl into nervous fists.

My entire body tightens, and without thinking, I’m moving. My stride is deliberate, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides.This is nuts,I think.We’ve only just met. But there’s no way I’m letting that creep touch her.

Harris spins her slightly, his hand starting to drift lower, and that’s it. I close the remaining distance in a few long steps and tap his shoulder harder than necessary.

“Mind if I cut in?” I don’t wait for a reply. My hand slides around Violet’s waist as I spin her into my arms in one fluid motion. Harris stumbles back, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance, but I’m already leading Violet into the next turn of the dance.

The music shifts slower now, and I pull her closer. “I’ve got you,” I murmur, my voice low but firm.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at me, her cheeks flushed. “Dex, what are you doing?” she whispers.

“What I’m here to do,” I reply, my hand pressing gently against the small of her back. “Protecting you.”

She doesn’t argue, but I can feel her hesitation, the way she’s not quite sure how to respond. I lean closer, just enough so my words are for her ears only but loud enough for Harris to catch if he’s still hovering nearby.

“You’re mine, Violet. And I don’t share.”

The words surprise even me, but I don’t regret them. They feel right—true—even if this whole situation is supposed to be fake. My grip tightens slightly, grounding her against me, and for the first time since I saw her on the dance floor, the tension in her body begins to ease.

The crowd has noticed us now. People glance our way, some smiling, others whispering. I can feel Harris’s eyes boring into my back, but I don’t care. This moment isn’t about him. It’s about making sure Violet feels safe, cared for, and untouchable by anyone else.

As we move to the music, I focus on her. On the way, her breathing slows, her hands finding their place on my shoulders. On the way, her lips part slightly as if she wants to say something but can’t find the words.

I dip her slightly as the music crescendos, my hand firm on her back. When I bring her upright again, our faces are so close I can feel her breath against my lips.

“Dex,” she starts, her voice shaky.

“I know,” I reply, my voice steady and certain. “But I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Her lips part, and for a moment, I’m sure she’s going to argue. Instead, she closes the gap, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that’s softer, sweeter than the one we shared earlier but no less consuming. My hand moves to cradle her cheek, anchoring us in the moment.

When the music stops, I release her slowly, letting my hand linger at her waist. “You’re safe with me,” I murmur, meeting her gaze.

Her eyes search mine, and I see the walls she’s so carefully built starting to crack. I’m not just her fake boyfriend anymore. I’m something more. And I’ll be damned if I let her change her mind about us now.

I guide her back to our table, my hand never leaving her back. As we sit down, Harris is nowhere to be seen. Good. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay away.

But as I look at Violet, I know one thing for sure. I’m all in, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make her realize she should be, too.

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