Hunter’s grip around her waist tightened as his deep voice rolled out across the table like a command, low and filled with dominance.

“Well… if you must know,” his smirk curved wickedly, “this is Mirabella. And she is mine.”

The way he said mine shook her chest. It wasn’t just a word. It was a claim, prison, fire, and something darker than she could explain. She flushed instantly, her face hot with embarrassment. Every pair of eyes at the long table swung to her, and Mirabella ...