And now he had to parade Rose around the ballroom with his enemies surrounding her—and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop the madness. Not without drawing more attention to her. Worse, he had to do it with the intoxicating taste of her in his mouth, the feel of her burned into his hands. And a hard-on only she could relieve. She remained by his side, at least, as she watched the happenings through wide eyes. Both a blessing and a curse. She was here, but he couldn’t claim her. Couldn’t stop every single man from staring at her. Men he wanted to kill, his own as well as Greer’s. But he couldn’t blame them. She was enchanting. That fall of white-blond hair, those cherry red lips swollen from his kisses. Even dressed like a warrior, she was the most elegant woman in the room. And she was his. He wanted to announce that fact more than he wanted to throw her on his bed and strip her. Well, maybe not quite that much. But damn it!
