Lucas found himself intrigued. 'Fascinating. Such expertise from someone so young.'
His keen memory assured him that Phoebe was completely new to the scene—definitely not anyone who'd ever appeared in Clearwater's elite circles before.
While ascending the stairs with his companion, Lucas suddenly spoke up. "Baby, forward me that footage you captured."
"What? Lucas, are you done with me? Have I messed up somehow?" the woman stammered, instant panic flooding her voice. She assumed Lucas had developed interest in that other woman. Tears sprang to her eyes as if summoned on command.
She clutched at Lucas's shirt, pressing herself against him desperately, trying to prevent being discarded.
"Cut it out," Lucas snapped, annoyance creeping into his tone as her curves pressed into him. He gripped her narrow waist with a frustrated sigh. "I'm not getting rid of you."
"Promise?" Her watery eyes and helpless expression could have softened granite.
