Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Being jealous is such a self-centered feeling that it always has to be experienced.

"This is Kylie, my girlfriend." The woman's eyes widened in surprise as he uttered this with determination. His statements made me feel proud because he had called me this title twice in one evening, and neither time had I resisted.

Although the term "girlfriend" seemed so nebulous to describe us, it demonstrated his commitment to me. For a little while, he looked at me, a smile spreading across his lips as he pretended to be appreciative of my acceptance of him despite my continuing rejection of our mate link. I felt so light and loved the joy on his face.

"And this is Sammy and Clara Philip; they will be hosting the fundraiser tonight." He spoke plainly, and I stammered.

The words had come so naturally to him, as though attending fundraisers were just part of his routine. However, the lavishness of this location was breathtaking, and I hardly had enough cash to be wearing this dress, much less going with a man of royal standing to an event exclusive to the royal nobility. Except for Derrick, everyone could sense that I was out of place.

"Look at him being all humble." Sammy Philip chuckled. "Derrick is like a son to us, and he has been our biggest donor for years now. I'm sure you'll see him in action tonight." His words felt heavy in my chest, but he smirked at me, sensing my trepidation.

Since we first met, Derrick has not spoken about his parents. I understood why, and I also understood my role in it. I forced the gloomy sensation to the back of my thoughts. This was not going to ruin my evening.

I turned to gaze at him, and he gave a quick, half-laughed, half-irritated sniff through his nose. He was grinning, giving the old couple a warm, fuzzy look, but all they seemed to do was glance back at him with surprise.

"I don't know how you did it, honey, but regardless of the fact that I've never seen a woman on his arm before tonight, I have never seen him this bright-eyed and happy." Derrick rolled his eyes at Clara's matronly remarks, and her voice was full of incredulity as I came to terms with the relationship they all shared.

He attempted to push me forward by moving his hand to my back, but I was captivated. I was curious to find out more about the role these individuals had assumed in his life.

Finally, I said, "It was lovely to meet you both." "Derrick holds the two of you in very high regard, and I would love to share stories when we all have more time." They laughed quietly at what I said, and I smiled nicely as our tension eased.

"Of course, I'll arrange a time for you two to go out and have fun before the auction begins." Don't be afraid to ask for what you want, sweetheart. I'm sure Derrick would buy you the world if he could." I was blushing wildly as he pushed me ahead and showed me into a room that resembled a museum exhibit.

I said in a low voice, "They were nice," as I turned to look at the other people exploring the space and took in the architecture of the walls, which curled up into a dome.

I released my grip on him and stepped forward to face him while observing my surroundings. He watched me focus my eyes on the pricey objects strewn all about us and said nothing, looking down at me.

I responded, trembling and feeling uneasy about my lack of knowledge about how his world operated. "I've never done anything like this before; I have no idea what I'm supposed to do."

With an air of apathy, he looked around the room and hummed gently.

"All we have to do is look at all the pretty things and see if we want to take them home with us." He stepped in my direction, the fury in his eyes returning. "The problem with that, however, is that I'm already looking at the prettiest thing in this room, and she's already coming home with me." He touched my flushed cheeks with his fingertip, bridging the gap I had made between us.

His words cemented my fractured parts together and enveloped me in warmth and comfort like a blanket. I uttered an incomprehensible noise, my forehead resting on his chest as my body leaned into his. How could I compete with the way he was staring at me? How could I stand up to him when he kept saying things like that?

His hands settled against my hips, and I could smell his scent while his heartbeat remained steady. His need to feel me against him served as a constant link to his presence.

"Why are you always so kind to me?" I let out a groan.

When I felt his hands on me, I felt empty and undeserving, but he was still here, giving me lovely praise even though I was just a body waiting to kill him.

His grasp tightened around me as if he was scared I would flee, and he exhaled gently, his knowledge of me confirmed in one erratic breath.

"I know there are things I don't know about you, that there are things you aren't comfortable sharing with me just yet, but do you really think so lowly of me? Do you really think I would be hateful to you—to my mate?" His hands moved to my face, and I felt his scowl as he pulled my head away from his chest. "My only purpose on this earth is to take care of you and provide for you." He touched my lips with his fingertips. "To please you." When he was done, I nearly lost my breath.

I was raised in a hostile environment, and as a result, it affected every facet of my adult life. I chose to wait for the hate to arrive and for the shoe to drop instead of accepting kindness from others. I was familiar with dealing with hate, so I trusted it.

"You make it sound so simple." I withdrew my eyes from his, not wanting to bear the tenderness of it.

"Why can't it be simple?" I gave her a headshake.

I was unable to respond to his query. I had to keep it a secret from him, knowing that if he found out, he would despise me. We couldn't have this conversation at someone else's house, so I couldn't tell him this way.

I recoiled in astonishment from Derrick's hold as someone cleared their throat behind us. The old man scowled at us, not impressed with the performance we were giving. I started to blush again, turning away from his critical stare, but before he could go, someone else stopped him.

As I stepped away from him, his eyes remained fixed on mine, and for a few seconds, I wondered if he would shove the modest man who was attempting to get his attention. Rather, I saw as he averted his gaze from me, greeting the man with a flimsy smile.

As I stared at him in this way, my heart faltered against its normal rhythm.