Chapter 14
The day drifts by in lazy stretches—slow, sweet, yet entirely too quickly. We spend the hours wrapped in each other. Cuddling, teasing, and kissing between bouts of laughter that make my stomach ache.
Enzo and I find ourselves on the couch, my legs thrown across his lap while his hands roam up and down my calves in long, unhurried strokes.
I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be tense and nervous around him.
The man who terrified me less than a week ago feels so far away from the man currently dusting his fingers over my skin.
He glances down at his watch and then back up at me as he lightly taps my calf. “You should probably get ready. ”
“For?”
“Our date, princess.”
I stare back at him, surprised. “I thought you said you weren’t taking me anywhere.”
“I’m not.” That infuriating, sexy smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. That damn smirk is becoming my kryptonite. “We’re staying in, but I still plan to give you the night you deserve. You’ve got an hour. Then I expect you in the hall outside your brother’s room, wearing a pretty dress for me.”
I lean forward, practically tackling him to plant a big, wet kiss on his lips. “Thank you,” I murmur against his mouth as I pull back. He palms the sides of my face and drags me back into him for a deep kiss that leaves my heart fluttering.
“One hour,” he reminds, helping me from his lap.
I head upstairs and hear him banging around in the kitchen.
He cooks? I somehow imagined Enzo as a guy who survives off takeout—or protein shakes and intimidation.
Oh God. What if he doesn’t cook? My concern about crunchy pasta smothered in ketchup is mitigated a few moments later when a rich, savory aroma wafts up the stairs.
It smells so delicious that my stomach actually growls.
I dig through my meager section of clothes in Cillian’s closet.
When he went and grabbed my things, he didn’t exactly fill a bag with date-night apparel—more like gym attire and a handful of casual dresses.
With my limited options, I settle on the little black strapless dress I came here in.
It’s simple, yet hugs all the right places while still leaving a little to the imagination.
With my hair curled into loose waves and my makeup light but sharp, I slide the dress on and smooth it over my hips.
My fingers tremble with a little anticipation as I pull on my strappy heels—nerves, maybe?
Ridiculous, Eavan… he’s already seen you naked .
I pause before the full-length mirror to take in my appearance, wanting to look exceptionally good for him tonight.
I step into the hall, and the scent that greets me is decadent—creamy and earthy.
Enzo is resting against the wall, waiting for me.
His tailored navy suit fits him like a sin—the burgundy, jacquard, silk tie barely loosened at the neck.
My feet root in place like I’ve suddenly forgotten how to walk.
Quickly pushing upright, his eyes rake over my body.
He crosses the short distance between us and takes my hand, squeezing it gently.
“You look fucking incredible,” he whispers, drawing me close enough to place a chaste kiss against my cheek.
“You clean up well yourself.” I struggle to get the words out through the sudden tightness in my chest.
“Not like a Tony Soprano starter kit?” he teases, leading me down the hall toward his room.
“Did I seriously just get all dressed up to go to your room?” I snark.
He glares down at me, opening his bedroom door and warns, “There’s still time to ensure you can’t sit comfortably for our date tonight.
” He leads me past his bed and toward the open door to the balcony.
My eyes are drawn to a soft glow on the other side of the threshold, and I audibly gasp at the sight.
The Manhattan skyline stretches beyond the balcony, hazy and golden in the distance as the last of the sun sets over the horizon.
Lounge chair cushions line the stone floor, covered with soft throws and surrounded by flickering candles.
Dozens of them. He was apparently quite busy when I thought he was playing on his phone today.
Sitting in the middle of the pillows and candles—dinner. Enzo guides me toward the little area he’s set up for tonight and helps me to a pillow. Taking the cushion across from me, he pours the wine and urges me to try the food before me. Savory and perfectly cooked mushroom risotto.
I shovel in a second—and third—forkful, moaning with each delectable bite.
He licks his lips, watching me enjoy the meal he made, and the look on his face borders on indecent.
“This is delicious,” I finally praise between bites, chasing a mushroom across my plate with the tines of my fork. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, princess,” he responds, flirtatiously with a hint of smugness. His tone softens and he shares, “My mom taught me before she died.”
I can’t hide the smile that spreads across my face, not that I want to. Reaching over our plates, I lightly cup the side of his face and run my thumb over the sexy as hell scar in his eyebrow. “Start here.”
His cheek presses into my hand as he smiles.
“This?” He rests his fingers on my thumb and drags them through the scar.
“I got this the day I met your brother and Nik. We all attended Crestfallen Prep, so I knew them in passing. But with who I am… who they are… we were far from being friends. Or even acquaintances. On a dare from some friends, I stole the headmaster’s Buick.
Security shot at me, and I accidentally drove his sedan straight into the building when they put a slug in my shoulder. ”
I’ve seen the scar of that bullet wound, but this story isn’t quite how I imagined him getting it.
Far from it, actually. “You’re kidding?” I scoff, shaking my head as he finishes the Pinot in his glass.
Lifting the bottle to refill it, he tips it toward me, in a silent question.
I shake my head, and he places the bottle back beside the plates between us.
“Not in the slightest.” Rolling his stemless glass between his hands, he muses, “Straight into the gymnasium. My friends who dared me were nowhere to be found when I realized my leg was pinned in the crash. But?—”
“Cian and Nikolai?” I interrupt.
“For some reason, they pulled me free and got me home. Probably kept my ass out of juvie,” he shares with a lighthearted chuckle.
My eyes pull from his, flicking toward the scar. “So that’s from the accident.”
“No.” His tone is suddenly less jovial and reminiscent. “That’s from my father beating the shit out of me when an O’Brien and a Romanov brought my injured ass to his doorstep. ”
“Oh,” I softly exhale, realizing his father wasn’t too different from my own.
As though he didn’t just drop a massive bomb, he continues, “And the three of us… We’ve been thick as thieves ever since.”
He tells me more stories from his childhood—some about my brother that he probably shouldn’t.
The wine dwindles, and Enzo moves closer to me as we talk.
I lean back into the bed of cushions to get more comfortable.
“You surprise me, Enzo,” I confess, watching the candlelight flicker when a soft, warm breeze blows over the terrace.
“How so?”
“You’re… different from what I expected. Softer.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, princess.”
“It is,” I promise. “I like this version of you.”
He leans closer, and his chocolate eyes burn when they catch the light from the candles. “You’re the only person who’s ever seen this side of me.”
I stare back at him in silence, wondering how we got here so fast. And why it feels like exactly where we’re supposed to be.
Enzo finishes the last of his wine and leans back beside me with one hand behind his head and the other leisurely dusting along my upper thigh. Rolling toward him, I rest my head against his shoulder and curl my legs under me. “I still can’t believe you managed to plan all of this in under a day.”
“You said you wanted a date, princess. ”
“I was thinking pizza and a movie.” I laugh softly. “I didn’t expect a candlelit dinner under the stars.”
“I don’t do things half-assed, Eavan,” he firmly responds.
He turns, fingers brushing my jaw as he tilts my face toward his.
He stares down at me, and my heart flutters.
“Especially when it comes to you.” Pressing his lips to mine, he kisses me gently.
No urgency or need—just tenderness. His hand slides around the back of my neck, and his thumb rubs against my jaw as he takes his time tasting my lips.
The softness of his silk tie brushes against my bare skin at the neckline of my dress when I press my body to his. He parts his lips lightly, and his tongue teases mine with a deliberate slowness that leaves me whimpering into his mouth with need.
Our kiss growing more passionate, he rolls toward me, pressing me onto my back and leaving him resting half on top of me.
His hand slides along my thigh, hooking under my knee, and lightly parting my legs.
His knuckles dust over my skin—leaving a wake of goosebumps—and he mutters his instruction against my lips, “Spread wide for Daddy.”