The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife novel Chapter 64

64 Claiming What’s Mine

64 Claiming What’s Mine

## Hazel’s POV

I stared at the spot where our friends had just disappeared, knowing full well they wouldn’t be back anytime soon. This was a setup, plain and simple.

“They’re about as subtle as a freight train,” I muttered.

Liam’s violet-blue eyes locked onto mine with startling intensity. “Your dance partner seemed quite taken with you.”

His voice was low and controlled, but I heard the edge beneath it. I’d had enough tequila to feel bold.

“Levi? He was just being friendly.”

“No,” Liam said flatly. “He wasn’t.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And why would that matter to you?”

Liam leaned in, close enough that I could feel his warm breath against my ear. “Because you are mine, Hazel. And I don’t share what’s mine.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. The possessiveness in his tone should have angered me. Instead, it ignited something primal.

“I’m not yours,” I managed to say, though my voice wasn’t nearly as firm as I wanted it to be.

“We both know that’s not true.” His eyes never left mine as he reached for my hand on the table. His thumb traced slow circles on my palm.

Before I could respond, a woman approached our table. Tall, blonde, and wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination, she smiled at Liam like he was dinner.

“Liam Sterling,” she purred. “I thought that was you. It’s been forever.”

Liam’s expression remained impassive. “Vanessa.”

She pouted theatrically. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our night in Milan?”

I felt my stomach drop. The tequila churned uncomfortably.

“I’d love to reminisce,” she continued, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder. “Maybe over drinks? My place isn’t far.”

I don’t know what possessed me. Maybe it was the three shots of tequila. Maybe it was seeing another woman touching him so casually. Before I could stop myself, the words

tumbled out.

“He has an owner, and that’s me.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened. Liam’s head snapped toward me, shock briefly crossing his features before his lips curled into a wolfish grin.

“Excuse me?” Vanessa sputtered.

Heat rushed to my face. I couldn’t believe what I’d just said, but there was no taking it

back now.

“You heard me,” I said, voice steadier than I felt. “He’s taken.”

Vanessa looked between us, her eyes narrowing. “I didn’t realize Liam Sterling was doing the commitment thing now.”

“There are many things you don’t realize, Vanessa,” Liam said smoothly, moving his hand to rest possessively on my thigh under the table. “But yes, I am… committed.”

The word hung between us, loaded with meaning.

Vanessa’s smile turned brittle. “Well, when you get bored of playing house, you have my number.”

As she walked away, I grabbed my glass and drained what was left of my drink.

“Owner?” Liam asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. “That’s quite a bold claim, Ms.

Vance.”

Mortification washed over me. “I was just-she was so-you don’t have to look so smug

about it.”

“The most beautiful woman in the room is jealous over me,” he said, leaning closer. “I’m entitled to a little smugness.”

I scoffed. “You think I’m jealous? And the most beautiful—”

“I know you’re jealous,” he cut me off. “And yes, the most beautiful. By far.”

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64 Claiming What’s Mine

The sincerity in his eyes made my breath catch.

“Dance with me,” he said again, but this time it was definitely a command.

I should have said no. Should have walked away. Instead, I let him lead me to the dance floor as a slow, sensual song began.

His hand settled on the small of my back, drawing me against his solid chest. My body remembered his-how we fit together, the strength in his arms, the heat of his skin.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his lips close to my ear.

“It’s cold,” I lied.

His low chuckle vibrated through me. “It’s at least ninety degrees in here, and you

know it.”

We moved together, his body guiding mine effortlessly. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so… alive. Every nerve ending was on fire where he touched me.

“I’ve missed this,” he said softly. “Having you in my arms.”

I looked up to find his gaze burning into mine.

“It’s just a dance,” I whispered, not convincing either of us.

“Is it?”

His hand slid lower, just grazing the curve of my hip, and I forgot how to breathe. The music changed to something faster, but we barely altered our pace, locked in our own rhythm.

“They’re all watching us,” I said, catching glimpses of our friends staring from the

sidelines.

“Let them watch.” His voice was rough with desire. “Let them see that you’re mine.”

“You keep saying that,” I challenged, though my body betrayed me by pressing closer.

“Because it’s true. You’ve been mine since that first day in my office. Maybe even

before that.”

We danced through three more songs, our bodies moving closer with each beat. His hands became more possessive, my resistance weaker. When we finally returned to

64 Cl

ng What’s Mine

our table, I was light-headed from more than just alcohol.

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