Page 45 of Defending What's Mine

We glide through the first verse, trading small talk calibrated for eavesdroppers.How’s my favorite fiancée this evening? Over the moon, darling.I can feel eyes on us—curiosity, envy, suspicion—but I keep my focus tight. Every time Charlotte’s dress brushes my shin, a zing of heat shoots up my spine.

Halfway through the second song she tilts her head. “Tactical question: do you always dance like you’ve done this a thousand times?”

“Military balls,” I admit. “Turns out waltz steps impress generals’ wives.”

“Well, color me impressed.”

“And you? Professional gala-goer?”

“Practically born on a dance floor,” she says with a rueful chuckle. “Comes with the Lane pedigree—learn to foxtrot before you can parallel-park.”

She spins under my raised arm, red fabric flaring like a solar flare, then settles back against me, chest to chest. Her heartbeat flutters through thin layers of silk and worsted wool. Mine answers. This is dangerous. But I tighten my hold anyway. Just for the duration of one more chorus.

On the final note I feel a shadow fall across us. Wade. His smile is as tight as piano wire.

“Charlotte, you look… ravishing.” His gaze cuts to our joined hands. “Asher.”

I rest a protective hand on Charlotte’s waist. “Evening, Sinclair.”

He forces a laugh meant to sound urbane; it lands brittle. “Didn’t realize the guest list includedsecurity detail.”

“Where she goes, I go,” I say, keeping my tone pleasant.Back offpulses unsaid between us.

Charlotte steps in before the testosterone fumes slip a gear. “Wade, you remember my fiancé.” It’s a personal jab. Obviously he remembers me, but it makes me proud of her for using me like this. She smiles, and then drapes her arm across my chest.

Her eyes flick up to mine. I lower my head and brush a soft kiss across her temple. Wade’s jaw ticks.

“Enjoy the evening,” I say, steering Charlotte toward the far side of the floor before Sinclair can retort.

When we’re clear she exhales. “He looked ready to blow a gasket.”

“That was the idea.” But adrenaline lingers in my blood like static. “You okay?”

“Better than okay.” She squeezes my hand, and we drift to the bar for hydration. I order a sparkling water for her and a soda water for me. I scan again: no obvious tails, though Wade’s eyes burn holes from across the room.

The quartet segues into a slow violin piece. Couples sway under chandelier prisms. Charlotte leans in, voice low. “Thank you… for existing right now.”

I smile—can’t help it. “Anytime.”

Another song begins,“Fly Me to the Moon.”An impulse kicks my ribs. I set my glass down, pull her gently back to the floor. She slips into my arms like we’ve practiced for years. Laughter bubbles at her lips; then her expression softens, the distance between us dissolving. Midway through the chorus, she tilts her head, eyes blinking up at me.

Screw professional distance. I lower my mouth to hers.

The kiss is deliberate, unhurried. It’s public yet private in its connection. Her lips are soft, tasting faintly of citrus and champagne. The ballroom hum fades and even the bowstrings mute. I angle my head, brushing a thumb along her jaw, deepening just enough to sayminewithout crossing the PG-13 line. She sighs, hands sliding to my shoulders.

We part after three heartbeats—four, maybe—and her eyes are storm-bright. Around us applause breaks for the band’s graceful finish, masking any gossiping gasps. I rest my forehead to hers for one stolen second, whispering, “Selling the story.”

“Best endorsement money can’t buy,” she murmurs, cheeks flushed rose beneath chandelier light.

We managetwo more dances before Charlotte’s grandmother intercepts us near the dessert table—petite, silver-haired, eyes sharp as cut glass.

“Well, well,” she says, tapping my forearm with her cane as though testing the quality. “The happy couple glowing like sparklers.”

“Nana Peg, you look lovely,” Charlotte says, kissing her cheek.

“Thank you, dear. I didn’t realize Asher was quite the dancer.” She offers her hand and I take it with respectful firmness.

“Nice to see you again.”

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