Jakob draws me closer until the space between us disappears, his palm firm at my lower back while his other hand closes around mine and holds it against his chest. Beneath my fingers, his heartbeat is steady. Mine is doing enough for both of us.
“Relax,” he murmurs. His mouth shifts at one corner. “You’re gripping my hand hard enough to stop the circulation.”
I loosen my fingers instantly. “Sorry.”
“I didn’t ask you to let go.” The words slide through me, and my breath catches. Jakob doesn’t grin or tease me for it. He simply begins to move, guiding me into the rhythm with such easy control that I only need to follow.
Unfortunately, following requires coordination.
I step the wrong way, catch the edge of his shoe, and stumble against him. My breast presses firmly against his arm before I manage to straighten, and heat floods my face so fast I’m surprised the fire alarms stay silent.
“Oh God. Sorry.”
Jakob’s hand tightens at my back, keeping me close instead of allowing me to retreat. His gaze drops briefly to where I collided with him, then returns to my face with a warmth that makes the embarrassment turn into something far more dangerous.
“You’re beautiful, you know. Way too good for Louis.”
The room seems to soften around the words. There’s no dramatic smile for Louis to see. Jakob says it as if it’s a simple fact he expects me to accept.
I stare up at him. “You don’t have to say things like that for this to work.”
“I’m not saying it for him.”
My heart gives one hard, aching beat.
Then he turns us smoothly around another couple, his hand guiding my waist before I can drift into their path. He steers me between bodies and trailing gowns, always placing himself between me and anyone who comes too close.
I should be thinking about Louis. The entire point of me smiling, leaning into Jakob, is to give my ex something bitter to swallow.
Instead, I’m thinking about the way Jakob keeps watching me. The strength in the arm around my back and the care beneath it. How easily he adjusts when I miss a step, never making me feel clumsy or foolish.
He turns me beneath his arm, and my dress flares around my legs. When I come back to him, he catches me securely and draws me against his chest, his face lowering near mine.
“You’re doing perfectly,” he whispers.
Something inside me melts.
We continue across the dance floor, gradually circling closer to the bridal table. It takes me a moment to realize Jakob is doing it deliberately. Each turn brings us nearer to Louis, closeenough now that he has no choice but to see every touch, smile, and second Jakob keeps me wrapped in his attention.
Louis’s Omega whispers something to him, but he barely reacts. His eyes remain fixed on us, jaw set, champagne untouched in front of him.
Jakob follows my gaze, then dips his head beside my ear. “Let’s have some fun. Laugh for me.”
Before I can ask when, his mouth brushes the shell of my ear. His tongue traces one slow, deliberate stroke across my earlobe, and a startled laugh bursts out of me, breathless and completely real.
Jakob moves at the same moment, tipping me backward into a deep dip. His arm holds me securely as the lights tilt above me and the room spins into a blur of white flowers and dark suits.
From that angle, I see Louis perfectly.
He’s damn furious while his Omega tugs at his sleeve, but his attention is locked on me.
And I’m enjoying every bit of it.
Then Jakob brings me upright again slowly enough that my body slides close along his on the way up. By the time I’m standing, my hands are gripping his lapels and my face is inches from his. My lungs have forgotten how to work.
His gaze drops to my mouth, and the heat between us bursts. The jealousy, the performance, and even the crowded reception fall away until all I can concentrate on is his hand at my waist and the possibility hanging in the space between our lips.
“How did I do?” he asks, his voice rougher, deeper, sexier. I’m in so much trouble.