She breathed in his cologne, spice and pine, and melted even closer.

“This one was worth every penny since I’ve been wanting to dance with you,” he murmured. “I’d like to find a closet and do more, but the staff’s monitoring the private areas. Maybe the beach though…”

Thinking he was joking, she laughed. “You are…” The heat in his gaze made her swallow hard. Maybe he wasn’t joking. “Um. I’m not dressed for sex in the sand.”

“Mmm.” He nuzzled her temple and set her heart to pounding. “I wouldn’t put you in the sand, buttercup. I’d bend you over a table, hike up your gorgeous gown, and take you from behind.”

He rubbed his chest sideways to tease her breasts. “Because that way I can reach around and play with your nipples…using my right hand.”

What about his left hand? “Behave, Sir.”

“Now the left”—his voice lowered—”my left hand would tease your pussy.”

The flames sizzling over her skin might well ignite her clothes. As she dampened, she tried to step back. His arms flexed into iron bars holding her captive.

“I like your little whimpers when I’m balls deep,” he whispered. “I like how your cunt squeezes my cock as you come.”

He was liable to make her climax right there in the middle of a crowd. As her legs wobbled, he laughed.

“Jake.” Linda walked through the dancing couples. “Sam says you’re in charge of summoning the two limos for the newlyweds. It’s time.”

“I’m on it.” With his usual impeccable manners, Jake escorted Rainie to the edge of the dance floor and kissed her fingers. “Enjoy yourself, sweetling. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Right,” she said under her breath, watching him stride away. Jacob Sheffield in a tuxedo had to be one of the wonders of the world.

He made her feel so special when he danced with her. Talked with her. Laughed at her jokes and teased her. His gaze said he thought she was beautiful.

But… She winced. Mr. Politeness-Itself Sheffield had witnessed her tirade at the evil mothers, Mrs. Kouros and Mrs. Renard. Why hadn’t he mentioned her behavior?

A knot formed in her stomach as she remembered his ease with Gabi’s parents—and they with him. The totally snobbish Renards wouldn’t converse with someone they considered beneath them. But he was at their level.

Her shoulders tightened. She hadn’t missed how Jake attracted female attention—like the redhead who’d made a play for him, kissing his cheek and rubbing her breasts against his arm.

But he left her to dance with me.

“You must be Rainie.” Like a witch materializing out of black smoke—obviously summoned by Rainie’s unhappy thoughts—the redhead approached. Wine glass in hand, she gave Rainie an insolent scrutiny, making her aware of each hair out of place, of every bulge of her hips and stomach, of how her chin was round, not pointed.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you tonight.” The woman’s snide tone established she wasn’t applying to be one of Rainie’s BFFs.

“How odd,” Rainie said evenly. “I haven’t heard a thing about you.” A feeble comeback, but better than none.

“I can see how Jake would enjoy a woman like you for a quick fling,” the redhead said. “There’s a certain appeal to fat and coarse, at least for a brief change in diet.” Her flawlessly curved eyebrows lifted to complement a delicate sneer.

Rainie stiffened. What in the world?

“However, since I know the Sheffields, I suggest you don’t get comfortable. Men rarely marry beneath their class, and you, my dear, are so far below you’re barely out of the gutter.”

Before Rainie could find a response to the unexpected vitriol, the bitch spun on her high heel and stalked away…back to the Renards, who were staring at Rainie as if she’d crawled out of some lagoon for monsters.

After a second, Rainie got it. Gabi’s mother had unleashed the woman as her own personal attack dog.

Turning her back, she fought the sickness trying to crawl out of her stomach. Yes, she’d been rude to Mrs. Renard and Galen’s mother, but only in defense of her friend—and with good cause.

Being attacked for a background she hadn’t chosen, that wasn’t…wasn’t fair.

Then again, was it fair in college when boyfriends like Geoffrey took her home, then dumped her after their parents disapproved? Was it fair when teens like Mandy had ridiculed her in the classrooms?

Or, worse, at the Sheffield’s house? Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and burned in her throat. The redhead was right about the Sheffields. They were elegant. Refined. Cultured.

Rainie closed her eyes, remembering. As a foster child, she hadn’t visited anyone’s home, not until popular, charming Jennifer Sheffield invited Rainie to her birthday party. Rainie’d worn her coolest, prettiest clothes and spent hours getting her hair and makeup just right. She’d walked into the Sheffield’s home, with her ugly backpack slung over her shoulder. In wonder, she’d stared at the parquet floors, the antique furniture worn to a smooth patina, and the paintings with vivid colors and textures. Everything merged to create breathtaking beauty in a way she’d never seen before.

And there had been another kind of beauty as well. Jake had been there.

Staring blindly at the dance floor, Rainie heard the song change to Nobody Knows it But Me. Could a tune get any sadder? Crying inside was right. She realized she was backing away from the music, from the guests.

At the Sheffield’s, she’d learned an ugly lesson—that clothes and manners only took a person so far. When mean people discovered a vulnerability, like a distasteful background, they’d tear away at it until the victim bled to death.

She’d been wrong to think she could stay. To love Jake. All her work to improve herself would be useless if everyone knew her past. And she’d be Jake’s vulnerability. Being with her could hurt him. She must—must—move away. But escape meant leaving Jake.

Don’t cry, don’t cry. Breathing through her nose, she forced the tears back.

“Hey, are you okay?” Beth appeared and took her hand.

Nolan was a step behind. The clean lines of his black tux emphasized his facial scars and the deadliness of his dark gaze. This Master was scarier than Master Sam. “What happened?”

“N-nothing.” Her voice broke. Nolan’s eyes narrowed, and she added hastily, “I’m fine.”

He put a finger under her chin, tipped it up. His eyes turned blacker. “Who upset you?”

Damn him for noticing. For caring. Tears blurred her vision. “No one. I-I’m just…hey, it’s a wedding. Females are supposed to cry.” She took the tissue Beth handed her and wiped her cheeks.

“Females are supposed to be honest,” he growled, and, to her horror, looked past her.

The redhead had disappeared—thank you, God. But Mrs. Renard stood with two of her stuffy women friends. Watching. Gloating.

“I’m thinking Gabi’s nasty mother was rude or did something, probably because Rainie gave her a few home truths.” Beth leaned on Nolan and stroked his huge biceps through his jacket. “Oh, my most wonderful, majestic King of Kings, could you drag that woman out onto the dance floor and make her uncomfortable.”

His expression didn’t change in the slightest, yet amusement lit his cruel eyes. He studied Rainie, the tissue in her hand, and returned his gaze to his submissive. “I can, little rabbit.” Without another word, he strolled toward the women.

“Beth,” Rainie whispered. “No.”

Beth squeezed her hand. “Shhh, I want to enjoy this.”

He escorted Gabi’s mother to the dance floor, and his big hand completely wrapped around her upper arm.

The woman gabbled protests and was ignored. When her voice rose, he gave her a Master’s stare. One the Shadowlands really should patent.

Mrs. Renard shriveled on the spot, mouth shut completely.

“Go, Sir.” Beth was giggling worse than Sally on her silliest day.

“Beth, he shouldn’t—”

“He should. Gabi gave the guys orders. If her mother caused trouble, a Master was to drag her out to the dance floor and go all Dom on her ass.”

Rainie tried to laugh. “That’s mean.”

“Gabi’s mom is mean.” Beth squeezed her hand. “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing, really. A friend of hers simply rubbed my nose in an indisputable fact.” One she’d tried to forget. “Jake is rich.”

“His family is.” Beth considered. “I guess that makes him wealthy as well. But he doesn’t care about money.”

Sure, he didn’t.

Beth’s mouth twisted. “You don’t believe me.”

“I’ve had some experience with these matters,” Rainie said. “Jake might not be concerned now. After all, he’s a guy. Guys think with their dicks. And a dick has a fairly short-sighted range of ambitions.”

Beth choked on a laugh.

“But parents don’t have the dick handicap. So if their beloved heir brings home a woman like me? One ugly scene ensues.” As Geoffrey’s family had demonstrated.