Meralee bared teeth. Yanking her head viciously from Worthington’s grip and waving him away dismissively with the same haughty aristocratic air that Worthington did such gestures.

Worthington’s resolve to harm Mera was written plainly on his face.

He won’t get the chance. Deragan recognized the possessive way Lucien’s eyes followed the woman. He wants her.

Turner was next to approach Nora. Figuring he’ll try his luck. He drew close and opened his mouth to speak, but Meralee gave him a look, that sent him retreating.

Like a mouse under a hungry cat’s watchful eye. Deragan saw interest brighten Lucien’s gaze as he locked on his prey. Weaving through the crowd toward her as she sent another would-be suitor fleeing.

Is everyone terrified of the girl? A smile curved Deragan’s lips as he saw the way Lucien watched her. Apparently, he’s not.

Deragan looked at the brunette and tried to see what he imagined Lucien saw. Despite all her dark glares, Meralee stunned in a gold brocade gown designed to flow with her movements. Subtle folds a reflection of the gentle waves in her brown tresses, falling around her face. Even men terrified of her viper’s tongue stared at her as her thick lashed brown eyes surveyed the crowd, bored.

She’s little interest in tutelage boys. Deragan realized. Good. Perhaps Lucien will be more her flavor as well.

Deragan was disheartened to see Lucien’s progress halted by a group of misses that’d discerned his fine garb. Lucien deflated as he dropped his eyes to the curtsying woman before him.

Deragan’s eyes flitted to Meralee, Nora, and Anna. Where Meralee was preparing to charge after Worthington.

“That’s a threat.” Mera murmured to the other two, as Worthington turned away. Glaring at his back heatedly. Hands working white-knuckled fists, she stepped after him. It took both her friends to pull her back. “I’d like to-”

“Look around you.” Nora tugged her elbow.

Forcing Meralee to glance at the hushed Ballroom. Noticing she had the next scandal well underway.

Her brothers would be so proud. Deragan grimaced.

Nora worriedly watched Worthington crossing the dancefloor.

She fears he’ll come back and give Meralee the final push to get her removed from his path.

I’m afraid of that too. Deragan stared long and hard at Anna. Persuading her thoughts, until she blurted to Meralee. “Let’s find you someone to dance with.”

Anna giggled nervously. “Break all the rumors that’ll have you fighting at the ball.” Ignoring Mera’s objections Anna drug her off. “Brandie Worthington showed up and she’s got the most exquisite man from Mane Country cornered. You simply must see him. He’s gorgeous!” Anna said quickly. “Far too dangerous for me, of course. But he might suit your interests.”

Brandie Worthington. Likely Simon Worthington’s sister.

Good luck Lucien. Deragan shuddered at the thought of how awful she might be since she was kin to that boy.

As Mera was drug across the room she tossed Nora a pleading look.

Nora lifted a stiff lock of curling blonde hair carefully pinned in loops all around her face. She mouthed “Like you saved me?” She gave a mocking little wave.

Ooh, some fire in my mate yet. Deragan smothered a laugh at her humor.

Lips jutting, Mera eyed Nora darkly.

“Come Mera.” Anna led her. “It’s been much time since you were courted. Those over-protective brothers of yours tend to scare everyone off…”

“So do I.”

Deragan rubbed a palm over his face. Hopefully Lucien warms to the whirlwind.

As Meralee neared the cluster of feminine heads, courtesy of Anna’s forced dragging they discerned the man towering above the ladies, as the center of the commotion.

Mera gave an unladylike grunt. “How typical of these Meadowbrook socialites.”

Deragan chuckled because despite her words she raised to her tiptoes to see over the colorful array of hairdos to get a look at him.

Anna spoke, over her shoulder. “He’s Lord Lucien Sabias.”

How’d they know that?

Meralee was sure Lady Anna Valentine indicated she too should be fascinated. Almost involuntarily, Meralee moved closer to the cluster of women. Finally, shoving her way to the forefront of the crowd, she glanced behind her.

Deragan watched amusedly as Meralee caught sight of the back of Lucien’s dark head. Looming above the ladies.

She bit her lip as she reached for his shoulder. Some innate sense stalled her hand.

An instinctive reaction to something dangerous. Deragan knew. Impressed she picked up on it.

But it’s too late. Even from directly behind him, she followed Lucien’s gaze as it twisted to her hand hovering over his shoulder…The hand that’d never touched him.

His conversation with the short girl in-front of him ended abruptly when he gave her his back. Twirling to face Meralee.

She was captured in the honey gaze lighting on her. Studying her with unearthen intensity. As if he saw straight through her skin.

She sucked in a quick breath.

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