Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

"Huh?"

Clara shot Dylan a look like he'd just spoken in another language. Was that really him talking? How many more times was this man going to catch her off guard?

"So what if I'm jealous?" she shot back. "Who even knows if your money's clean?" Her words came out sharper than she meant, but she didn't bother to take them back.

He just looked at her, cool as ever. "Dirty or not, you spent it. If you're so bothered, maybe go puke up everything you've eaten lately. That champagne last night? Ten grand a bottle."

Dylan, seriously?

Clara stopped walking. From where she stood, she could see his face still that icy, untouchable look.

She took a breath, trying to steady herself. "Are you possessed or something?"

How did a guy who looked like that say stuff like this? And wasn't it him who'd basically forced her to stay at Palm Bay, anyway? It wasn't like she'd begged to stick around.

Did he forget the way he'd handled things?

Thinking about it, her mood soured.

Why? Why did she keep forgetting the bad parts of Dylan so easily?

She remembered how intimidating he'd been in the car that day, the way the air had practically crackled with tension. Yet now, standing here, she still struggled to believe he could be so cold.

She opened her mouth, then just shook her head and quietly pushed the wheelchair forward.

Inside, the estate was glowing with artfully arranged lights, the pool shimmering and reflecting the crowd of beautiful people. It all looked like something out of a glossy magazine.

Dylan didn't bother greeting anyone when he arrived. Clara didn't want to, either -especially when she spotted Tara across the room.

Tara was surrounded, clearly the main attraction. Everyone was peppering her with questions about her time abroad. Tara answered smoothly, but kept glancing Dylan's way. When she saw Clara, her smile slipped for half a second, but she quickly recovered, chatting as if nothing had happened.

Other people noticed Clara, too. Their faces weren't exactly welcoming.

Most of them still thought of her as Simon's pathetic admirer. The Bradford Group had been in decline for years, and even though Ryan was doing his best to keep things running, everyone knew it was hanging by a thread.

The Bradfords just weren't in the same league as the rest of them.

Everyone here came from real money, old money. Someone like Clara showing up—someone with no real background—just didn't belong.

“Isn't that Clara? Didn't she stop chasing Simon a while ago?"

"You haven't heard? Rumor is she's got herself a boy toy now-some male model she clings to all day."

"I heard that too. There's talk Simon's actually chasing her now. Who knows if that's true."

Someone leaned closer to Tara, lowering their voice. "Aren't you and Dylan supposed to get married? Both families already met, right? Aren't you going to say hi?"

Tara's smile didn't even flicker. "Dylan's been under the weather, and I've been busy with work. Our families are handling the wedding stuff. We've already talked, no need for a big show."

The others looked at her, all envy and admiration.

Who wouldn't be jealous of Tara?

She had connections with all the

industry heavyweights, a shelf full of awards, and her architecture

projects were so popular even

getting on the waiting list was nearly

impossible. Even international magazines had featured

her-something almost unheard of

for someone her age.

Among all the socialites, Tara shone brightest.

People flocked around her, but Tara seemed distracted.

Every time she looked over at Dylan, she thought about that night in the private lounge-the way he kissed the fire in his eyes. She'd even

dreamed about it last night. What woman could stay calm after seeing that?

BUMS

Especially when it was the man she wanted most.

Tara took a deep breath, made her excuses, and slipped away toward the main hall.

Over by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dylan sat alone. Clara hovered a few steps away, asking if he wanted something to eat.

She'd picked out some fruit and pastries, and was just about to grab something spicy-hoping to mess with Dylan a little-when Jackson walked by and couldn't help himself.

"With your lips looking like that, you're still going for spicy food?"

Clara froze. Was Jackson actually talking to her?noveldrama

She glanced around. Yep, no one else in sight.

Jackson, cigarette dangling between his fingers, leaned against the glass door and smirked. "Yeah, you. What are you looking around for? Your lips are so swollen and you're still piling on the heat. If a certain someone sees, he's going to freak out." Cóntent

It finally clicked for Clara. "I'm just having an allergic reaction."

Jackson nearly snapped his cigarette in half, the smoke curling away in weird shapes.

He coughed, nearly choking. "A-allergy?"