Proprietary Hand

Context: They're at dinner at the Trentham Ball. Nathaniel and Charlotte are Sullivan Trentham's kids who are running their empire.

As dinner wound down, she sat back in her seat, feeling much more at ease with the company and her role. She glanced at Roth, who was deep in conversation with Nathaniel and the media mogul. All three of them had their heads together. She had no doubt that this was a portion of the business he had to see to tonight. Roth received at least one dozen business cards in the ballroom and countless invites to future gatherings. If this was part of Roth’s strategy to infiltrate high society, he succeeded beyond all expectations.

Her eyes traveled up to the ceiling mural as she gave herself a little mental break while everyone was otherwise engaged. Were those cherubs attacking war ships? She jolted when Roth reached out and gripped her thigh. He didn’t look at her as he did so. In fact, he was looking at Nathaniel, which meant she was looking at just a sliver of his profile, but his hand landed unerringly where he apparently meant it to because he squeezed lightly. She wasn’t sure what the hell that meant. A warning because she wasn’t extracting every bit of information possible from her table companions? She was about to brush him off when she noticed the media mogul sitting across from Roth giving her a speculative look. She gave him a blinding smile and turned toward Charlotte to see that she, too, was staring at Roth’s hand on her lap.

“Does he have a brother?”

Charlotte’s voice was strained, and her cheeks were a little flushed. Jasmine stared at her for a moment, certain she hadn’t heard her right or was misinterpreting the slightly desperate look on her pretty face.

“I’m sorry?”

Charlotte focused on her with a wild look in her vibrant green eyes. “I need a man,” the heiress said through clenched teeth. “One who doesn’t want me for my money, who can hold his own in a social setting like this, and who…” Charlotte leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “knows what to do in the bedroom.” Charlotte straightened and flared her eyes. “Does. He. Have. A. Brother?”

The urge to laugh was overwhelming, but she had a feeling Charlotte was on the verge of exploding, so she tried to contain it by biting her lip and shaking her head.

Charlotte’s face clouded with visible disappointment. The thought of Roth having a brother was actually alarming. Two of them? She wouldn’t be able to handle that. She wasn’t sure whether he was eavesdropping or sensed her amusement, but he stroked her thigh, sliding down to her knee and gripping for a moment before moving back to the top of her thigh and stopping once more.

“You and I need to do lunch,” Charlotte said, eyes riveted on Roth’s hand. “I hope you’re willing to dish because I need some hope that there are still men out there like the one you nabbed.”

Her smile faltered. The show he was putting on for the masses was nothing like their private lives. He was making their marriage into something it wasn’t for her protection, but also for his gain, whatever that was. Roth didn’t do anything without an ulterior motive.

“That would be fun,” she lied.

The invitation was nothing to take lightly. The Trentham’s influence in society, business, and finance was immeasurable. As far as she knew, neither of her sisters had ever been invited to dine privately with Charlotte. She wasn’t sure why she was getting so much one on one attention from her until she said, “We also have other things to discuss.”

Charlotte seemed to have a hard time tearing her gaze from Roth’s large hand draped proprietarily over her lap.

“We do?”

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

*Image is just inspiration for his proprietary hand.

What do you think is his intention by reaching for her like that? Do you think he's deliberately bringing more attention to them? Reassuring her? Reinforcing their image as star-crossed lovers? Or, reprimanding her for not doing her job and interacting with others at the table?