Under normal circumstances, I would shove him off and tell him to go find someone else to charm. But I am tilting like a three-legged chair and desperately need steadying. Rafe’s body is a solid presence against mine, his hand on my waist somehow reassuring. I find myself relaxing against him, batting my eyes up at him in my best attempt at flirty eyes. “We can’t have the Duke of Weldon stoop to begging, now can we?” Rafe looks delighted by my response and wastes no time twirling me away. One glimpse at Callum’s face shows a look which, if I didn’t know better, resembles jealousy.
