Ink of Copper

31. In Which an Awkward Encounter Leads to a Cliff Where We Jump to Conclusions

Chapter 31

In Which an Awkward Encounter Leads to a Cliff Where We Jump to Conclusions

E vander crossed and uncrossed his legs several times; standing, he smoothed his jacket and then sat again. Nervous energy made sitting difficult and standing impossible without pacing. He had escorted plenty of women in his human life, but none that meant anything to him. Staring up at the escalator, he searched for her once more. It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, but he checked the clock on the wall just to be sure. He’d positioned himself outside the restaurant; he planned to meet her at the bottom and offer her his arm. His eyes snapped to the escalator again as he willed his heart to stop that infernal pounding. Calm and collected, that was what he was known for; The Monk, they called him. Always proper. Always dutiful. Tonight, though, he longed for nothing more than to throw propriety out the window. He willed Ellie to hurry so he could start the improper behavior. His thoughts were on her lips when she suddenly appeared before him. She was halfway down the escalator and smiling as she slowly descended. She wore a simple, black dress that swooped along her clavicle. The sleeves came halfway down her arms. Embroidered around the hem were red and gold, orange and copper feathers that seemed to fall from the waist of the dress. Her beautiful hair was half-swept up with curly tendrils that fell over her shoulder. She held onto the banister with one hand. He drank her in as she slowly descended—a fiery enchantress in a black dress.

His mouth went dry at the sight of her. The escalator felt like it took years, but he stood frozen in his spot, mesmerized. His jaw was on the floor, but he didn’t care; she was a vision. Ellie walked towards him with a sashay to her hips, making her dress swish. Her eyes danced as she smiled at him. No one would blame him if he threw her over his shoulder and darted back up the moving stairs.

But he was frozen.

“Evening, Evander. My, don’t you look handsome.” Her southern drawl washed over him, disrupting his already erratic heart and impeding his speech.

As she craned her face up, he could only stare and nod weekly. Dumbstruck. Instinctively, taking her hand, he secured it within the bend of his elbow.

“Good evening.” His words sounded stiff. “You look absolutely stunning”—he paused—“Ellie.”

She closed her eyes, and a pink smattering crossed her cheeks.

“May I show you to your seats?” the hostess greeted them. Evander nodded and motioned that Ellie go ahead of him. They walked single file, weaving through the crowded restaurant; he watched as Ellie’s hair bounced in time with her steps. He wanted to reach out and slide one of her silky curls through his fingers. The hostess sat them and poured a glass of wine for both.

“Thank you,” Ellie said.

She opened her oversized menu, hiding her face behind it. Seconds later, her eyes met his over the top, and a nervous laugh escaped her.

Smoothing the front of his suit, he unbuttoned a button, shifted in his seat, glanced around, and finally sipped some wine. Despite his typical refusal of the dinner wine, he needed it to calm his nerves. Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight once more. He had wanted her all to himself, and now he couldn’t think of anything to say. As he unfolded his menu, he glanced up to find her peering at him over hers. A sheepish grin played on her lips as her eyes darted back to her menu.

He seemed so nervous, and Ellie didn’t understand why. The two sat in a strange silence that sizzled with electricity, but when the server came by to take their orders, they both stumbled with their words. She made a show of unfolding and refolding her napkin across her lap several times, unable to keep her hands still. They had spent time in each other’s company, talking, laughing, sharing. And yet, now she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Her mind was a blank minefield of nothingness, and the longer the silence stretched between them, the more awkward it became. Their only communication was glances and Ellie’s pink cheeks. She reached for a roll. Slathering butter on it, she tore off a hunk and plopped it into her mouth. Glancing around the room for the thousandth time, she watched as everyone around them chattered excitedly, humming with life. They sat in a cone of silence and sideways glances.

Her eyes met Evander’s as he bit into his roll. Something about how his lips flowered around the soft bread had her flushed and breathless. She paid particular attention to his tongue that darted out to catch glob of butter before he wiped his glistening mouth. He chewed slowly, looking off to a couple seated tables away. She watched him, tracing her tongue over her lower lip. She shifted onto her hip and crossed her legs under the table, bumping into him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she drawled and reached to stroke his shin.

Evander seemed in pain at her touch.

“That’s quite alright,” he said stiffly and reached for another roll, which he roughly broke in two.

“So,” she began, wanting desperately to turn this night around. “Where are you from? I don’t know that you’ve ever told me.”

“Bradford, but my family had two estates, and I resided in London, mostly. I now spend all of my time traveling.” He took a sip of wine.

“Interesting,” was all she said.

They fell silent, and she kicked herself for this going so badly. Had she really run out of things to say? Their conversations were effortless before. He made her laugh and feel beautiful, sending fire coursing through her veins with his kisses. They were connecting. But tonight, it was like they didn’t know how to be with each other. Why had those interactions been so fluid but this one so strained? She was panicking, letting doubts take over, letting that damn voice tell her she was boring. Maybe she was. Maybe he had only been polite, and this was all in her head. Maybe their only connection was attraction. Perhaps a bad date was just what she needed, so she wouldn’t wonder what might have been years later. She was about to whip out her box of dominoes and see if that helped ease some of this tension when Evander spoke.

“Where are you from? Originally?”

Ellie raised her eyebrows at the absurd question.

“Texas. Well, Troyland, actually. I wanted to be by my parents, and after the divorce”—she shrugged her shoulders—“I unfortunately got the house.” Her voice took on a singsong pitch. “I live in my parent’s house now.” She cracked a crooked grin before trailing off.

Silence again.

This date was a terrible idea. They clearly had nothing in common. Had she missed the signs all this time and been so caught up in his looks that she didn’t realize his personality was that of a bowling ball? No . They had shared some personal conversations and built a friendship of sorts. She looked forward to seeing him, even if half the time he kept his distance. Ellie trusted him, which said a lot considering they barely knew one another. And he had ignored her for days after sending her over the edge from his touch. But there was something about him. She didn’t know why, it didn’t make any rational sense, but she felt a connection, despite the conflicting messages. He had answers to her questions. And she had numerous questions. Like why daemons were after her, and what kind of frat was he in that branded a man and had a vow of chastity?

Their dinner went about like the beginning had. Mostly silence, with a few questions between them. By the end, Ellie was desperate to head back to her cabin and obsess over why this dinner went so terribly wrong for the next few hours. A familiar voice interrupted her plan to escape by calling out to them from across the restaurant.

“So, this is where you two ended up.” Liam’s voice came from several tables over. He headed towards them, Syren trailing behind.

“Liam,” Evander said crisply.

She peered up at the knockout in a deep-red dress with an even deeper plunging neckline. Ellie smiled brightly at the two familiar faces as Evander scowled. Standing, she wrapped her arms around Syren, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

“Hey! I didn’t know y’all were over there,” she said as they all crowded around the small table.

Evander eyed the newcomer, who nodded.

“Oh, right,” Liam said, sipping his friend’s wine. “Evander, this is Syren.”

Syren touched Liam’s cheek as he leaned in and kissed her palm. Evander’s scowl deepened.

The men turned to each other, a comfortable chatter striking up among them. Liam flagged down a server, and within a few minutes, he ordered desserts for the table as Ellie waited for an opening to leave. Evander’s features were unreadable. His mood darkened as he glanced between Liam and hers.

Syren leaned over and whispered; her eyes fixed on Liam. “Have you had a chance to”—nodding at Evander—“yet?” She pointed her chin at the men.

Ellie shook her head. “No. Not really. And he seems so damn distracted tonight. Or annoyed. I can’t tell.”

“You need to get to it; you only have a few hours before we dock.”

It should feel strange discussing possible sex with a man she had met on a cruise with a friend she had just met, but something about Syren reminded her of Reese. She missed her friend more than she wanted to admit. She needed her advice now more than ever. Needed someone to help her get out of her head and go for the thing she wanted.

“I know, but this night was awkward, and I just want to get back to my cabin.”

Syren leveled her gaze at Ellie. “You think awkward dinners end in no sex? Please, most of my dates are awkward; I still sleep with them.”

“Of course you do; look at you.” She gestured at her. “You’re a walking sex kitten in that dress.”

“Now, stop that. What did I tell you the other morning? That man wants you, Ellie. He can’t think of anything else but you under him. Or him behind you. I bet he is kinky as hell, all that up-tightness. It needs to go somewhere.”

Ellie boasted a laugh that had both men staring at her momentarily as she covered her mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe so, but that man is dying to take off his clothes, neatly fold his trousers, and have his way with you.” She took a sip of Ellie’s wine. “You need a friend like me.”

“Do I?”

“Of course. Who else will give you this type of amazing advice?” She cocked a crooked grin.

The band took the stage and began warming up. In a few minutes, a crew member poorly sang old swing numbers by Frank Sinatra and Bobby Darin as couples took to the dance floor. Syren shook her shoulders in time to the music as she devoured a piece of cake. Ellie sat back and watched the three interact, so free and full of life. Liam said something that had Evander giving him his patent look of annoyance mixed with mirth while Syren butted in with her own comments. The trio lobbed remarks and teased effortlessly between them, and it pricked Ellie’s heart at how relaxed he now seemed. He reclined in the chair, his ankle crossed over his knee as Liam said something else witty. And suddenly, everything between them seemed impossible. If he was relaxed with them but stiff with her, she was indeed the problem. Boring. Just as Penn had always told her she was. Besides, she wasn’t the sort of woman who did one-night stands, and no matter how attracted she was to him, this would definitely be a one-night stand. Dying to return to her cabin and agonize over where she went so wrong, she jumped when Syren’s arm brushed hers.

“Look at how he looks at you.” Leaning in, she gripped the arm of Ellie’s chair, blocking her escape. Ellie rolled her eyes as Evander’s gaze flicked to her for a few intense seconds, stealing her breath, before he went back to listening to Liam.

“That means nothing,” she whispered back.

“It means everything. Watch, I’ll show you.”

Syren stood and grabbed Evander’s hand, pulling him to stand. He let out a grunt of protest, but she silenced him with a hand on his chest.

“Liam, honey, it’s alright if I dance with your best mate, yeah?”

Liam sat back in his seat, bemused at the helpless pleas Evander shot him, begging him to say no. Ignoring his look of anguish, she dragged him along behind her. They began dancing, at first formally, and as he loosened up and accepted his fate, more flowing. Syren wiggled playfully, her hips swaying. Ellie watched for a few moments, then gathered her things to go. Evander and her friend occupied; she planned to escape undetected.

“He has never looked at anyone as he looks at you,” Liam said as he moved to sit in the seat Syren had vacated.

Ellie sighed through her nose. “I beg your pardon?”

“He’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you, Ellie.”

He sat back in the chair, his arm braced against the back.

“What do you mean?” she asked, watching the pair.

“You know damn well what I mean. He has always followed the rules until you. He puts that bloody pride above all else—his duty, his sworn vow. But with you, he’s different.”

She turned to look at a ?serious Liam. A concept she found more than a little alarming.

“I’ve warned him; we all have. Max has had more than one talk with him. But he is fighting a losing battle. I have never seen a man so damn nervous around a woman in my life. You unnerve him. See what Syren is doing? That’s easy for him to resist. He can dance with her and talk to her, but? she’s just a nice girl. You. You’re a threat to him. He wants you, but he doesn’t understand why. He’ll hide behind his duty and convince himself that keeping his distance is protecting you.” Liam drew his lips together. “If you wanted to, you could destroy him. All it would take would be a word from you for him to break his vow and finally take you to bed. Please, Ellie, for his sake, don’t.”

Lines creased her forehead, but Liam went on.

“I can’t stop him, and honest, love, I don’t want to. You’re good for him. You bring out something in him I haven’t seen in a long time. But you’re dangerous. He has shrouded himself in honor because of one mistake, but you’re pulling at the thread, inch by inch. And you’d be the first to do it, to break that shell he arms himself in.”

Ellie had been watching the two dancing as Liam spoke. While Evander kept time, Syren would move closer, but he’d keep her at a distance. Proper. At one point, she made a face over his shoulder.

“What did you say?” she whipped around to face him. “Did you just imply . . . the first to do what?” Her gray eyes pinned him to his seat.

Liam’s face drained of color, searching for words, but nothing came. He sat with his mouth open.

“The joke,” Ellie said slowly. “About Athens. About being a visitor but never a tourist. All that stuff about going slow, and he wouldn’t be up for much. That’s the innuendo. That’s what you were implying. You’re saying—” She swallowed as Liam’s eyes went wide. “Is Evander a virgin? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Sputtering, he shook his head. “No. Well, I’m not entirely sure. But I’m fairly certain he has—I think. But no. That’s not what I mean. I’m trying to protect him, Ellie. He is heading for something that will be his detriment.”

“You’re protecting him from what? From me? I’m dangerous? How?”

“Would you dance with me, Ellie?” Evander’s deep aristocratic accent washed over her, his hand outstretched, his smile warm.

She startled at the sound and hesitated, looking swiftly at Liam, who tried to shrink back in his seat.

“Please?” His serious face was soft and pleading.

Helpless, she reached up and took his hand, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. The band began playing a sultry rumba beat as he wrapped his arms around her. Her mind was racing. What had Liam meant by she was dangerous? She was an excellent archer and had held her own against those creatures. In what way was she dangerous? Because they wanted to sleep with each other? What kind of strange world was Evander a part of that breaking a vow of celibacy had the potential to lead a man to his demise?

Then there was what Liam had implied, although now she wasn’t so sure. He certainly didn’t seem like a virgin, whatever that meant. The other night, his words, his hand expertly bringing her to an orgasm even her ex-husband had never achieved; a virgin wouldn’t be able to do that. Would they? The first time they kissed, he had kept his eyes closed longer. Had he never been kissed? She now questioned if he was just reserved or holding himself back because he wasn’t sure.

The crooner sang as Evander took Ellie in his arms, his hips moving in time with the beat. Letting the music envelop her, she found he danced as good as he looked, the rhythm easy for both. Gliding forward, she kept up, step after step. Her hips swung, her feet light as he twirled her. He pulled her close, his body hugging hers; his hand slid from her shoulders to her hip, heating her blood.

“You’ve taken up dance, along with self-defense and archery, Miss Ellie,” he breathed in her ear as she swayed. Something about the way he said Miss Ellie left her breathless.

“No. Just naturally good at it.” Boldness took hold for a moment, and she grinned up at him. “It’s best if one has a partner who can lead.”

He stepped back, and as he did, she shuffled a little. Her knee came up, and he grabbed it, wrapping her leg around. He sashayed his hips, and Ellie forgot how to breathe. Swinging her away with an expert twist, he twirled her at arm’s length around him before bringing her back up close again. Then he tucked her along the length of him, turned, and dipped her as his hands glided into place along her shoulder and hip. As Ellie’s head slowly went back, he placed a fervent kiss right on her throat and then brought her up to stand. She was on fire; her body was ablaze with need. He felt so good in her arms, so right. The heat between them ignited the dance floor, and others had turned to watch them.

“Leading is easy,” he muttered against her temple as he moved away and around, pulling her to him. “Especially when one’s partner is so responsive.” He glanced down, and the heat that ignited in his eyes caused her cheeks to flame.

She didn’t want to leave his arms, never wanted this dance to end. Evander swayed and swung her out again, quickly pulling her back in. At the last minute, he turned to the side and dipped her almost entirely parallel to the ground. He was above her, his muscular arms holding her, his face just inches from hers. The song ended, and the crowd that had gathered cheered. Evander closed the gap between their lips and quickly kissed hers before bringing her upright.

She was panting, her body on fire, her mind swirling. The dance left her desperately wanting to drag him to her room, but the replay of Liam’s stammering confession left unanswered questions. Stepping out of Evander’s arms, she headed back to their table. Sailing by, she grabbed her purse and dashed out the door. He called after her, but she ignored him, wanting to put as much distance as possible between them. Out on the deck, the cool, salty air calmed her as her heartbeat was wildly uncontrolled.

Clutching the railing, she bowed her head. “Pull yourself together, Ellie,” she said aloud to the dark waves of the ocean.

“I rather like watching you fall apart.”

His deep timbre didn’t startle her; she knew he’d follow. This was where they connected and came back together; the decks of this ship were their common ground. Stubbornly, she refused to look at him. Coming behind her, his expert hands slid into place on either side, gripping the railing and boxing her in. The heat from his body, so close yet so far, made her want to lean back and rest against him. Fighting the urge for several moments, she gave in and leaned back anyway. His chin came to rest on her crown, and he placed a kiss in her hair.

“I thought we were having a lovely dance.” His whisper floated down around her. “Terrible supper but lovely dance.”

“We did.”

“But?” he interjected.

“But,” she began slowly, “You took a vow. And I can’t be the one who breaks it.”

“I believe I’d be the one breaking it.” She could tell he was teasing by the tone of his voice.

“I know about you, about your—” She heard him take a sharp breath as she cast a glance behind her. “I know you’re inexperienced at—that you’re a—” she paused.

The half-laugh, half-snort sound he made caused her to smile. Such an indelicate sound from someone so high-bred. “Inexperienced? You think I’m a virgin?”

She nodded nervously.

“First, you mistake my thumb for my cock. And now you believe I’m a grown man who’s innocent. I might start taking these conclusions you jump to personally, Ellie.”

She turned around while his arms remained firmly on the railing behind her. He lowered his head so they could look at each other.

“You’re not?”

He blew out another laugh through his nose. The puff of air tickled the wild hairs along her forehead.

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not chasing skirts like Liam, but I’m not a new lamb either. And the vow . . .” he trailed off, a gargling sound came from the back of his throat. “The consequences for breaking it are severe. Deadly. But they’re consequences I am fully aware I’m making.” Narrowing his gaze, he searched her wide-eyed expression. “Do you think I have some sort of bet with Liam to get me a shag?”

She made a face. “Do you?”

“Do I what? Have a bet with Liam?” His eyes twinkled in the soft lighting. “Of course. Now let’s get me to bed.”

Ellie sucked in a breath, and her eyes widened further, searching his. But soon, they narrowed at the sound of his soft chuckle.

“Oh,” she whispered. “You’re joking.”

His arms slid around her waist, pulling her closer.

“I’ve been clear that it’s you I want.” His breath fanning her cheeks smelled of roast meat and wine and something else, something familiar. “I’ve never wavered in my vow. Not once. Until you. I meant what I said: you are dangerous to me, ruinous, but it doesn’t mean I’m willing to walk away. Do you know why I wanted one last night alone with you?”

Ellie shook her head, trembling as he grazed her jaw with his finger, lifting her chin slowly. Heat bloomed behind his eyes; a raging fire danced, swallowing the ocean-green color.

“Because I am tired of duty coming first. You have power over me, and I’m helpless. I don’t want to fight it anymore. You will be my destruction, Ellie, but I’ll gladly give you the match and watch my world burn to ash.” Leaning down, his breath tickled her ear as he whispered. “I’m consumed by you. Burning. Please put me out of my misery. Tell me you want me too.”

Her lungs burned as her breath caught in her throat. She slid her palms along his cheeks; he turned into one and kissed it. She pulled his head down and captured his lips, tangling her tongue with his. She pulled him closer, wanting all of him right then. Their tongues danced sensually, their bodies calling to one another. His arms wrapped tighter around her, fisting the fabric of her dress in his grip, keeping her pressed to him. She was on fire, her blood racing through her veins.

Ellie pulled back and placed her forehead on his. To slow her breathing, she ran her tongue along her lower lip, tasting him. They were both panting, each trying to slow the erratic beating of their collective hearts.

“I think we need to say goodnight,” she whispered.