Page 55 of Obsession & Oath

Sun-kissed skin, caramel eyes, biting humor. Italian insults primed on the tip of your tongue.

I bite my own tongue as Rina leans in close. “Is the color not to your satisfaction? I could be enticed into a shorter cut…better yet, I could forgo the dress entirely. Perhaps the sight will remind you just how much youworshippedme the last time.”

“That was a long time ago,” I respond stiffly.

Rina smirks. “I bet you remember it, though.”

It happens suddenly.

A ripple of awareness spreads through the ballroom, a shift in the air that turns heads and stills conversation. The musicians don’t falter, but even the melody feels different, as if it is bending to the presence that has just entered the hall.

The hairs prickle on the back of my neck, and I’m infinitely grateful for the excuse to look away from Rina. From having to indulge her relentless flirtations a moment longer.

And then I see her.

She stands at the top of the marble staircase, illuminated by candlelight and the shimmer of a thousand reflections in the chandeliers.

Carmen.

I know it’s her before my brain can form a single rational thought.

It doesn’t matter that her face is half-hidden behind a delicate mask of black lace—a perfect match to my own. Her hair has been swept into a loose, elegant knot, and the deep crimson of her gown is something I’ve never seen her wear before.

Iknow.My body knows. My breath leaves me in a sharp exhale, my pulse hammering against my ribs in protest.

The dress clings to her, sculpted silk and whispered temptation, the color a beautiful compliment against the warm glow of her skin. The fabric moves like liquid when she steps forward, the slit at her thigh parting just enough to make men forget their manners.

And theyareforgetting. I can hear the murmurs and see the way eyes are drawn to her like moths to a flame.

Heat licks at the base of my spine, something possessive and undeniable curling in my chest.

She isn’t just beautiful. She’sstunning,a force to be reckoned with, whether she realizes it or not. And right now, every bastard in this ballroom is staring at her like she’s a prize they suddenly want to claim.

I release Rina without a second thought. She makes a soft noise of protest, but I barely hear it. My feet are already moving, cutting across the dance floor with a singular purpose.

I don’t care about the curious looks, about the whispered speculation in my wake. The only thing I care about is reaching her before someone else does.

Because I may have agreed to play this game tonight.

ButCarmen Rubio belongs to me.

I reach her before anyone else can. Before some idiot with more bravado than sense makes the mistake of thinking she’s available.

I step into her space, letting the heat of my presence announce me before my voice does. “Balla con me, princesa.” Dance with me.

She turns her head slightly, just enough for her gaze to meet mine. Her expression gives nothing away, but I don’t miss the way her breath catches. She recovers quickly, of course. She always does.

“What makes you think I’d be interested?” she muses, tilting her head. “From what I hear, you intend to court your future wife this evening.”

I smirk. “And if you don’t save me from such a horrendous fate, I’ll be forced to leave you to your other countless admirers.”

Her eyebrow quirks up, not denying the envious looks thrown our way. “Has it not occurred to you that perhaps that’s exactly why I’m here?”

“Not at all,” I reply easily, calling her bluff.

She doesn’t move at first and doesn’t immediately accept my extended hand. Instead, she watches me, searching for something in my expression. Probably looking for the apology she thinks she’s owed.

Fair enough.

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