Gordon Hayworth descended the stage steps from the left, haloed in stage lights. His strides were measured, deliberate—each step bringing him closer to Tracy Page. The entire room froze in awe, the moment he appeared making them forget where they stood.
“Mr. Hayworth, you’re finally here! They’re harassing Tracy—that group demanded she ‘keep them company’!”
Moanna Chowne ignored the gaping man rooted in shock beside her. She yanked Tracy forward, thrusting her into Gordon’s line of sight.
Gordon’s eyes darkened dangerously at the sight of Tracy’s exposed legs. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his jacket and secured it around her hips in one fluid motion. Tracy locked up completely, every muscle rigid.
His signature lavender scent enveloped her, intoxicating and warm.
“Move.”
That
