Chapter 28
Xander
I swallow hard, breathing in the sweet scent of honey and jasmine. Satisfaction curls through me, knowing she’s using the shampoo I bought her.
She fits perfectly in my arms as I move us across the floor, holding her closer than I should.
I can’t bring myself to care. Not when she’s melted against me like this. Finally, she’s here because she wants to be.
Every small movement drives me insane. The curl of her fingers, nails pressing through my shirt. Her breath against my neck, coming faster with each step. It’s like she’s lit a match and dropped it straight into my chest.
Her nose brushes the bottom of my chin, and my entire body shudders.
Her nails press in harder, and I want more.
I want them to dig in, leaving crescent marks along my skin.
She presses in close, like any space between us might kill her.
I slide my hand down the back of her neck, feel goose bumps rise beneath my fingers, and the quiet sound that escapes her nearly undoes me.
I stumble a step, barely keeping us upright. She looks up at me through lowered lashes, want mirroring mine.
For the first time since the hospital, I can breathe.
I’ve always taken what I wanted. But seeing her afraid of me gutted me more than I’ll ever admit. I’ve thought about getting on my knees and begging her to forgive me. I would have, if I thought it would work.
But I knew she needed to come to me on her own. That if I wanted all of her, she had to choose to trust me.
And now, with her in my arms, I know we’ll get there.
If she needs coaxing, I’ll coax her. If she wants something, I’ll get it. If she needs me to kneel, I’ll kneel. Whatever she needs, she’ll have.
I’ll never let her go. But I’ll make it so she never wants to leave.
The thought of her owning me tightens something low in my gut. My cock hardens, and she gasps when it presses against her stomach.
Has she noticed we’ve stopped dancing? That she’s standing on her toes, lips almost brushing mine?
Fuck. I’m not a good man, but whatever she’s doing to me should be illegal.
“Are you ready to go home?” My voice comes out rough, thick.
“Yes.”
Wide eyes meet mine, bright and soft. There’s a hint of play there that makes my teeth grind as I hold myself back. I breathe in slowly. Out slower. Baby steps. I can’t fuck this up.
With the restraint of a saint, I let her go and lead her off the floor. I tell myself I’ll kiss her the second we’re in the car.
The crowd parts easily, but her faint squeeze on my fingers makes me stop.
She’s standing behind me, chest rising fast, her free hand gripping her dress. Her movements are too sharp, too tight.
I need to slow down. If I push too hard, she’ll run.
“Do you want a drink?”
Her shoulders drop in relief. “I would love a drink.”
I start to pull away, but she doesn’t let go. The corner of my mouth lifts.
“You’ll have to let go of me first.”
She glances down at our joined hands, then jerks back like she’s been burned. Color rushes into her cheeks.
“You were the one holding my hand.”
I hide my smile. “Whatever you say, pretty girl.”
I walk off before she can answer, taking the win. There’s something addictive about riling her up, watching the sparks I knew were hiding inside her start to burn.
“Lord Everette, good to see you tonight.”
I’m in such a good mood I stop to speak, but it drains out of me when I spot Elliot beside him.
I made a deal with this bastard once and have regretted it ever since. The only reason he’s still standing is because his father earned a lifetime of respect. My patience is thin, but I’m not ready to burn that bridge. Not yet.
Elliot’s been skimming. Like I wouldn’t notice. Matthias is already digging into it, finding ways to make him sweat without his father catching on.
He extends a hand, and I take it hard enough to make him wince. His eyes dart everywhere but at me. Then something shifts. His gaze hardens, fixed over my shoulder.
I turn, but there’s nothing there. When I face him again, he’s already making excuses, slipping away.
A waiter passes. I grab a glass of champagne. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my wife.”
The good mood fades the second I realize she’s not where I left her.
My pulse spikes. I start searching the room, scanning faces, scanning corners.
“Dahlia?”
No answer.
I push through the crowd, every muscle locked tight. Voices blur into static. Someone calls my name, but I don’t stop. The pulse in my neck is hammering so hard it’s all I can hear.
I check the restroom, shove the door open. A startled scream. Not her. Just a stranger staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I mutter an apology and back out fast. The lights feel too bright, the air too thin.
My heart climbs higher in my throat as I scan the hallway. Every step gets heavier. Each second longer than the one before.
She’s not by the bar. Not near the exit. Not anywhere I can see.
A cold sweat breaks across my shoulders. My hands curl into fists. I try to think, to stay calm, but all I can picture is her walking out those doors alone.
I turn in a slow circle, the sound of music fading beneath the blood pounding in my ears.
Then it hits me.
She’s gone.