“Maybe.”
Daniel was looking at her again. She stared back, her eyes full of emotion. She didn’t want to be here anymore. Didn’t want to be in his brother’s arms, or watching as he danced with Melissa.
She wanted it to be the two of them in their own little world again.
As though he could sense her stare, Lawrence spun Becca around. But her gaze automatically reconnected with Daniel’s. He looked as pained as her. It was a small consolation.
When the dance came to an end, Becca politely pulled herself from Lawrence’s hold.
“Thank you.” His smile was smug.
She nodded, then searched for Daniel. He was on the side of the dance floor, talking to Melissa. Becca tried to ignore the pain stabbing at her chest as Melissa rolled onto her toes and pressed her lips against Daniel’s cheek.
“Well, it looks like we’re all friends again,” Lawrence murmured, flattening his palm high on Becca’s back so he was touching bare skin. Trying not to tense, she stepped forward, away from him. He smiled, as though he was enjoying her discomfort, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You and Daniel should come over some time. I’d like to get to know you better.”
Even though he was too far away to hear his brother’s words, Daniel’s gaze lifted, the smile slipping away from his lips when he saw Lawrence so close to Becca. Without saying goodbye to Melissa, he stalked across the dance floor toward them, Becca’s heart slamming against her ribcage in rhythm with his steps.
“Excuse me,” he murmured, barely giving Lawrence a glance. “I’d like her back.”
“Of course.” Lawrence sounded smug. “She’s a beautiful woman, who wouldn’t want her?”
Daniel took Becca’s hand, his fingers tense as they threaded through hers. “Would you like some air?” he asked, not waiting for her answer. Instead, he pulled her through the ballroom to the open glass doors at the far side, walking out onto the paved patio area, the music fading away behind them.
The cool air was a shock against her skin, but the jealousy still burned inside her. Daniel guided her along a path, toward an old summerhouse. Once they were at the door to the small building, he wrenched the door open and they stepped inside. “Did he upset you?” he asked, his face twisted with anger.
She shook her head. “No. He tried to get a rise from me but I batted it away.”
“What did he say?” There was a twitch in Daniel’s cheek. He looked like he wanted to hit something. She knew how he felt.
“Something about you being a sore loser. That you were so upset to lose Melissa that you ran away to Scotland.”
Daniel snorted. “Anything else?”
“Um…” She wracked her brain. “He talked about the house. Said we should come over for dinner some time.”
“Fat chance.” Daniel shook his head. “I didn’t like seeing you in his arms.”
“It didn’t mean anything.” Her voice was soft. “I didn’t like seeing you dance with Melissa either.”
He inhaled deeply, shaking his head. “She means nothing.”
“You were in love with her once.”
“I don’t know what love is. I’m not sure it even exists, but if it does, I never felt it for her.”
Becca’s head felt dizzy. “Did you go to Scotland because you were heartbroken?”
“No. I ran away because Lawrence won and I lost. It could have been a game of cards or a woman, it didn’t matter. It pissed me off. I told you I’m competitive.” He raked a hand through his hair. “And I’m aware of how fucking nuts that sounds. But you had to grow up here to know what it was like.” He pressed his lips together, as though in pain. “Seeing you in his arms, it made me angry.”
“I’m not his.” It was a whisper.
“No. You’re mine.” His voice was low and harsh. “That’s all I could think about when you were in his arms. That he was finding out how soft your skin is. How good you smell. That he got to look into your eyes instead of it being me.”
“I was looking at you.” A hot pulse danced in her neck.
She could feel the tension radiating from him. It matched her own. Ever since they kissed, it was as though the world had tipped sideways. Like one of those rides that whipped you around and round until you were barely clinging on.
Daniel stepped toward her, a lion stalking his pray. His hand cupped her jaw, his fingers hot and needy against her skin. He tipped her head, staring down at her with flinty eyes. “I could get so damn lost in you,” he whispered.