The man's jaw tightened as he watched Monica and Rex, their close proximity gnawing at his ego. To him, every shared smile, every whisper between them was a deliberate insult, a slap to his pride. His eyes, already small and cold, darkened further.
Finally, unable to bear another second of watching what he interpreted as shameless flirting, he turned on his heel and left the ballroom with a stormy expression. The dangerous gleam in his eyes, however, promised that this wasn't over.
Monica caught the moment out of the corner of her eye, and only when his shadowy figure slipped out of sight did, she let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her shoulders eased slightly, though her hand still clung to Rex's arm as if needing that steady presence.
"He's gone," she murmured, almost to herself. Then, glancing at Rex, she managed a wry smile. "You have no idea how much I hate seeing his face."
