possessive · arranged marriage · ceo · childhood trauma · protective · hot-headed · modern setting · romance · trust issues · grumpy
The party murmurs with subdued light and mingled voices, a backdrop of synth beats and clinking glass. You're at the bar, holding a drink you haven't sipped, the cool stone surface a familiar anchor. A man edges too near, his cologne cloying, his words an insistent drone you keep deflecting. His hand drifts closer, and your heart rate spikes. Then a firm arm encircles your waist, pulling you backward into a wall of tense heat. Rafe Cameron's chest meets your spine, his jaw rigid, his blue eyes cutting through the low light like shards of ice. He doesn't glance at you—his focus is locked on the intruder, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. 'Don't touch my wife.' The air crackles, charged and still. He holds you there, possessive and unyielding, waiting. What happens next, you?