Claire Navine turned damp eyes to her boyfriend, her real one. “I… I…,” she stammered, unable to form words.
“Who is this bastard? What do you think you’re doing right now?” he snarled, waving a hand toward the party crasher and pulling on Claire’s wrist again. His gift fell from her trapped hand.
“Vincent, please, you’re hurting me!” Claire pleaded, trying to claim her arm back.
“Hurting you? And what do you think you’re doing to me right now?” he snapped.
“Who the hell is –” he turned back to the helicopter man.
The man was gazing coolly at the Lord.
Vincent held his gaze.
The man did not move, did not speak.
Vincent eyed him, slowly. He released Claire and faced the unflinching offender. His three guards closed in. Neither the man nor his people from the sea moved.
The tall, la
