Page 97 of Her Filthy Reverse Harem Romance Collection

That is when I feel it.

I stifle a quiet gasp.

It is slight at first. Like a feather against the skin.

Warm and teasing.

A gentle caress yet not. It’s hard to explain, but true all the same. Before now I didn’t know you could actually feel another person’s eyes on you in such a way that makes your body tingle. Not in a creepy way like when you’re walking into a dark room and can’t find the light switch fast enough for fear of something lurking in the shadows.

No, this is different. Welcomed.

I take a deep breath as I turn my head and scan the large gathering.

When my gaze finds theirs on the opposite side of the ballroom, my heart stutters.

All three lock eyes on me at the same time.

Nothing in the world can prepare me for how utterly fast my life changes in that one instant.

India

In hindsight, it is no stretch of the imagination when I say trouble found me the second I stepped from the landing, and I made my slow descent.

From the wild look in their eyes to the predatory gracefulness, these beasts of men are as dark as they are deadly as they move in my direction.

They are gorgeous to watch and I find myself staring.

From the way their dark brown eyes scan every nuance of the room, for what I assume might be some lurking danger, to the way they carry their large frames in unison through the crowd like wolves on the hunt. Sleek in movement yet lethal.

It is intoxicating to watch how in sync they are with one another. My heart squeezes and I briefly forget there are tens of eyes watching me. I regain my composure and clamp down on the rolling emotions at seeing Tomas, Maksym, and Stefan weaving through the crowd.

All three raise their eyes to mine over the heads of the other guests and I lose the ability to breathe altogether. Forget shielding my emotions. They are bombs going off inside me and I can’t catch my breath. Surprise. Fear. Excitement. Curiosity. Anger. They are a savage ball of knotted yarn pulling and tugging my insides.

The power of their attention on me is so intense the simple action of locking gazes gives me full-body chills.

Holy shit. What is going on? Why are they here? And why did they just step out of my father’s library? Furthermore, why the hell does my father look like he just swallowed a bottle of acid.

My heart threatens to drop on the floor. Oh, God, they told him. That’s it. It has to be.

Rage fires hotter than lightning inside me. I should have known their radio silence meant they were scheming and plotting payback for dumping them. I will kill all three with my bare hands.

I pick up my pace down the long, spiraling stairs. Their dark gazes roam over me and it is as possessive as it is claiming. Focusing on them causes me to misstep but I right myself and continue.

Fuckers. My knees tremble so hard I can barely keep my legs from buckling. And I bet that is exactly what they wanted coming here. Me, scared and shaking. Hah. Whatever. I dig deep and find some untapped strength and pop the cork. As it pours from its well my knees pretend to stop shaking and my legs no longer feel like jelly. But my heart? Yeah, that treacherous thing is stuttering, stalling, and racing all at once making a fierce blush flash across my bare shoulder and cheeks.

One by one my fingers curl around the polished wood of the railing and for the first time in my twenty-four years, I feel the need to learn how to submit to a man with how possessive their expressions turn as their eyes linger over the swell of my breast. Along the dip of my waist and farther down.

A flash of desire flickers over their faces. It’s there one second and in the next the dark, brooding masks of unmoved men take its place. But I saw it. And I recognized those flames.

What the hell is going on? And why the hell did they have to come tonight, of all nights?

Tomas catches my attention again and I watch his mouth form the words,“We’re coming for you.”

Oh shit.

All bravado slinks back into the well and I’m left in need of a drink.

The black material of their tuxedos contours to their thick arms and fits their tall statures perfectly. I remember every swirl of ink and every scar beneath all that expensive material. Pure freaking muscles carved out of granite.

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