Julian's POV
My mind kept on wondering where Catherine was.
My eyes had been roaming the hall for a while now and still, they caught no trace of her. I couldn't even stop myself from thinking of her with that guy. He looked hot and from the way he was staring at Catherine, it seemed he was into her.
No! I wasn't jealous.
I tried to convince myself again and again but a physical ache twisted in my gut. I looked down at my own sleeves, the perfectly pressed cufflinks, the expensive watch—the uniform of a captive, then I compared it all to that guy.
He looked hot too. He looked like he could take Catherine anywhere he wanted, and right now, "anywhere" was away from me. Men like that were nothing but players, who saw the hearts of women as football.
I scanned the room again frantically, the urgent need to find her kept growing. I needed to make sure she wasn't actually falling for whatever game that tattooed bastard was playing.
