repositioned herself beside another man a few feet away.
Killian turned his attention back to Poppy, who had walked to the other side of the room; only flashes of her bright red cardigan allowed him to make out where she was.
He strode in that direction, intent on speaking with her, only to catch himself when he was a few feet away. He stopped, lingering, half shielded by a potted ficus.
See, this was good, he told himself, peering between the branches. She was supposed to be meeting someone. That was the point of this evening.
So why didn’t it feel right?
The two continued to talk. Poppy didn’t appear to stiffen or pull away when the man placed a hand on her shoulder. But Killian felt his own muscles tighten. Like a lion ready to rear up and attack.
Poppy laughed again, and Killian clenched his teeth. Then a group of chatting singles a few feet away caught his attention. They were watching him. One man raised an eyebrow, clearly aware of and amused by Killian’s spying. The woman next to him looked less amused, and more bothered. Killian offered a tight smile and stepped out from his hiding place.
What was he doing? He was acting like a jealous husband stalking his wife. Or maybe ex-wife was more accurate, since she had every right to be talking to another man.
Of course, if he was Poppy’s husband, he wouldn’t have let her get away to begin with.
He paused at that thought. Okay, he was losing it. This guy wasn’t
The man’s hand slid from Poppy’s shoulder all the way down her arm as he leaned in to say something. His mouth was close to Poppy’s cute, little seashell ear. Close enough to smell her cinnamon scent. Close enough for his lips to brush against the pale skin of her neck. Right away distrust flared, along with his possessiveness. Whether he was being irrational or not, something about this guy made him very uneasy.
Without another consideration of what was right or wrong, what he was here to do or not do, he sent his thoughts to the man.
The man glanced in his direction as if he’d heard Killian’s demand, but he didn’t drop his hand. In fact, he curled his fingers around her wrist, staking a claim.
What the hell?
The man said something to Poppy, but didn’t move. He glanced again in Killian’s direction, a slight smile on his lips, something glinting in his eyes. Something that looked like—smugness.
This wasn’t right. Killian knew something was wrong. He started toward them, and only then did the man move away from her. He shot Killian one last look, then disappeared into the crowd.
When Killian reached Poppy, the man was gone. And Poppy looked decidedly embarrassed. She crossed her arms and glanced around as if looking for the guy.
Killian’s satisfaction faded. What if Poppy had been truly interested in that guy? What if she’d wanted to get to know him better? What if he was her soul mate?
No. Something hadn’t been right. It was as if he’d heard Killian but didn’t have to obey. And he was sticking to his gut on this one. His own desires hadn’t motivated him. Well, much.
“Hey. Who was that guy?” he asked.
Poppy didn’t look at him right away, her arms still crossed tightly around her. But eventually she shot him a sidelong glance that didn’t shield the hurt in her dark eyes from him.
“Just some guy. Obviously no one important.”
“What? What did he do?” He frowned. Had that jerk hurt her somehow? If he had, Killian would find him and beat the shit out of the guy.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
Killian could see her shield, her wall, fall back into place. She was hurt and shutting him out.
Was she simply upset the man had left?
Because the last thing Poppy needed was to doubt her appeal. Her ex had already made her do that for years, she didn’t need to feel like other guys found her lacking. Especially since it had been very—almost too— obvious that guy had been interested in her.
Until Killian sent him on his way—if he even had. And his gut still told him something had been amiss with that man.
But maybe he wasn’t really gone.
“Is he coming back?”
Poppy laughed, the sound tight, not at all like her usual joyful giggle. “I doubt it.”
“Well, then clearly he’s an idiot.”
Poppy forced a smile. “Right.”
“He is.” Then, even though he knew he shouldn’t, he reached out and took Poppy’s hand.
She hesitated at the touch, her fingers tense against his, but then slowly they curled to squeeze his back. Suddenly, the edginess that had been keeping him rigid and agitated disappeared. He’d done the right thing coming to her.
Poppy tried to understand what had just happened in the last ten minutes. First she’d thought that Parve had been genuinely interested in talking with her. He’d been almost too intense but, overall, she’d found him likeable.
He’d laughed and asked questions. He’d touched her several times. She hadn’t dated in many years, but weren’t those all signals that he liked her?
Then as if some switch went off in his head, he’d walked away, barely saying good-bye, much less giving her an excuse for his sudden change of attitude.
Had she said something offensive? He’d been asking her about her life. Where she lived. About her career. A little more about Killian. That last subject she’d avoided, but she didn’t think she was rude about it.
Perhaps she had bad breath or something, but that still didn’t merit such an abrupt departure. She fought the urge to place a hand up to her mouth to test her breath.
And now, here was Killian. At her side. Holding her hand. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn Killian seemed relieved when she’d accepted his hand.
Maybe Killian was just relieved to be rid of the blonde he’d been talking to. Poppy supposed that could be it. But that still didn’t explain why Killian was holding her hand.
Was he just feeling bad for her? Poor rejected Poppy.
She tried to pull her hand away from his hold, but he squeezed, keeping her fingers entangled with his.
“You don’t have to hold my hand,” she said to him, suddenly sure his touch was spurred by pity. She didn’t want or need that.
“I want to.”
He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. The touch was light, barely even there, but the feathery caress still sent a shiver through her body.
He wanted to hold her hand. He’d said he’d wanted to kiss her too, but he’d showed no signs of wanting to do it again over the past few days.
“You’re kind of confusing,” Poppy said suddenly, nearly biting her tongue for blurting that out.
But Killian just chuckled. “I know.”
She frowned at him. Well, that wasn’t helpful at all. In fact, it was just more confusing. Shocker.
But she didn’t say anything. Instead they just walked silently, looking at the photos. The photos that depicted intimacy in various and erotic forms.
Killian paused in front of one of the photographs. This one was taken from above, most of the picture showing a woman with her head flung back in ecstasy. But out of focus beneath her, Poppy could see the form of a man’s large hands holding her hips and his head between her thighs.
She was straddling him and he was …
She looked away, heat burning her cheeks and neck. More heat pooled between her legs, which made her
