Chapter Seven
Seraphina
AIDEN HAWKE IS kissing me.
I stand there, frozen, acutely aware of…everything. His scent, the heat of his palms against my face, the press of his mouth against mine. Sensation spirals up, like hundreds of butterflies being released and filling my chest with an incredible fluttering even as my heart pounds against my ribs.
So I slide my hands up his chest and kiss him back. I part my lips, inviting him in.
He tenses. Oh no. Did I make a mistake?
I start to pull back. But Aiden slides a hand around the back of my neck as he groans.
And then he’s kissing me again. No, he’s devouring me, his tongue sliding along the seam of my lips before slipping inside.
The intimacy of it sends a shudder through my body all the way down to my thighs.
I press my legs together as a terribly delicious ache starts to pulse deep inside me.
I fist my fingers in his shirt and hold on so I don’t collapse in a puddle at his feet.
When I entertained the occasional daydream about Aiden, I always stopped before I let my own musings go too far. Not only did it feel wrong to think about my boss like that, but being intimate with a man wasn’t something I was ready for.
But I’m ready now.
I press myself against Aiden, moan as one hand comes up my side and stops just below my breast. I’ve never felt like this, electrified from one single kiss that’s both torture and heaven.
He leans back, gazing down at me with hooded eyes and mouth stained with my lipstick.
“Aiden,” I murmur, leaning up for another kiss.
He smiles at me, the first real smile he’s ever given me. It transforms his entire face, softening the harsh planes of his cheekbones and the bluntness of his jaw as his eyes crinkle at the corners. A different warmth blooms in my chest, rooted in desire but fed by deeper emotion.
“Much better,” he murmurs.
It’s like being splashed with ice water. Humiliation replaces my brief moment of affection. Aiden might have enjoyed the kiss, but he didn’t do it because he wanted to. He did it to relax me, to make me feel more comfortable with his touch before the photographers arrive.
I step back. “At least something meets your approval.”
Aiden’s brows draw together. His lips part, but before he can say anything, the elevator chimes three times just before the doors open.
Showtime.
One of the most sophisticated-looking women I’ve ever seen steps out of the elevator. Black hair sliced off just below her jaw accentuates the angularness of her face. Dressed in long black trousers and shirt with a white blazer, the woman strides up to Aiden, hand outstretched.
“Mr. Hawke. I’m Dylan Greene.”
Aiden shakes her hand. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Greene.”
“Thank you for inviting me.” Her smile is quick, sharp. “We’re thrilled you selected Gilded to announce your engagement.” She gestures to the young man behind her dressed in similar black pants and a shirt. “My photographer, Liam.” Her gaze slides to me. “And you must be Seraphina Clark.”
The way she eyes me makes me think of sharks and lions, predators on the hunt.
Just like a tough client.
I move forward, offering my hand as I slip into a professional mindset. If I treat this interview like I would any other client meeting, I can maintain the calm I need. I just need to balance that with holding Aiden’s hand and occasionally kissing his cheek.
No pressure whatsoever.
“Hello, Ms. Greene.” I smile, give her a firmer handshake than I normally would have. “I want to echo Aiden’s sentiments and thank you for coming.”
Dylan’s smile grows. “But of course. The world is dying to know more about you.”
Exactly what I don’t want. I turn to see Aiden standing next to me. Might as well start the charade now. I slide my hand into his, biting back a smile when his body tenses next to me.
Good. Let him feel uncomfortable for a minute or two.
“I also appreciate you understanding if I’m nervous.” I glance up at Aiden, giving him the most adoring gaze I can. “We’ve been keeping our relationship under the radar for so long it’s odd talking about it in public.”
“Of course,” Dylan croons.
Aiden squeezes my hand. I glance at him and release the breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding when I see the admiration in his eyes.
I’m still hurt by how he used our kiss, confused by his transition from flirty fake fiancé to cold, distant billionaire.
But I’ll take whatever support I can get right now.
A camera clicks. I start and look back at the photographer.
“Sorry,” he says with a smile that says he’s not sorry at all. “Great candid moment.”
“A warning, next time,” Aiden replies. His voice is quiet, but the menace in his tone is crystal clear. Liam shrinks back a fraction.
“Of course, sir. My apologies.”
“Let’s start on the terrace,” Dylan interjects with another megawatt smile. “Before the sun gets too high. We’ll take the photos, and then we’ll sit down and chat.”
As soon as we get outside, she directs us to a navy chaise longue. She starts off with a simple pose of me sitting and Aiden standing behind me, his hand on my shoulder. Liam sets up his camera as Dylan watches us with a critical eye.
Click, click.
Aiden’s hand tightens slightly on my shoulder. I reach up without thinking and cover his hand with my own.
“Oh, perfect!” Dylan points to my hand. “Liam, close-up of the ring.”
A few more shots and then she instructs me to sit on one side of the chaise and Aiden to sit on the other. We face each other, a few inches between us.
“Okay, Mr. Hawke, if you could lean in closer, maybe put a hand to her face.”
I try not to tense as he reaches up. Try to act like he’s done this every day for the past six months. But when his hand settles on my face, cradling my jaw with a tenderness I know is just for the cameras, I can’t help but lean into his touch.
There. Something flares in his eyes as the camera starts clicking away, a glimpse of the same fire I saw yesterday in the mirror before he turned and left me partially undressed.
“Foreheads together,” Dylan instructs.
Slowly, I lean forward. Aiden’s nostrils flare as his eyes darken.
My glance drops to his lips. I hate that a fake kiss was the best one of my life.
Hate that I can remember every second: the pressure of his hands on my face, the possessive press of his mouth on mine.
That moment when he seemed to come undone and deepened the kiss until I had to cling to him to stay standing.
Our foreheads touch and my lips part on a sigh. Even though this is just for a show, I feel that connection that pulsed between us at the gala reignite, strengthen.
If him just touching my face and laying his head against mine makes me feel this way, if his kiss gave me more pleasure than any other intimate encounter, what would actually making love be like?
Click, click.
I inhale and pull back. Aiden’s hand tightens on my jaw.
“Steady, Seraphina,” he murmurs under his breath.
“Problem?”
I turn to Dylan and give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s just…taking some getting used to.”
She waves a hand. “We got the shot anyway. Let’s try one by the glass wall.”
I stand, avoiding Aiden’s gaze as we walk over to the incredible view of Central Park laid out below. Taxis look like bright yellow ants as they crawl along 59th Street.
“Okay, Seraphina, face the park. And then Aiden, right behind her and arms around her waist.”
I can’t help it; I tense this time as the full length of his body presses against my back, as his arms circle around my waist. Strong arms that pull me flush against him.
I want to sink into him as much as I want to push him away.
The day is clear enough I can see the George Washington Bridge.
I focus on the bridge’s steel towers as I force myself to relax.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I picked my first pocket?”
Aiden’s voice whispers in my ear. A quake travels through me as he gently grabs one of my hands and guides it from the railing to settle over his.
“No.”
“I was so excited I held up the wallet for Dominic and Cassian to see. When I turned back around, the man was standing over me with his arms crossed and yanked it out of my hands.”
The image teases a smile to my lips. But it also stirs a sadness that he ever had to live his life that. Sadness and curiosity. I know next to nothing about Aiden’s life on the streets, or his life before.
Click.
“That must have been hard,” I murmur as Liam moves next to us and gets a close-up.
“Less than ideal. But there were good moments.” I want to ask more questions. But not in front of Dylan or Liam. I also don’t know if I’ll receive an answer if I do ask. Just like the kiss, I know he’s only sharing to help me relax, so I can slip deeper into my role.
“Seraphina, lay your other hand on top of his. Good,” Dylan praises as I follow her instructions. “Now both of you look out over the park.”
The camera clicks as I stare out over the leafy green treetops, the skyscrapers circling the lake and trails. I breathe in, then out, slowly relaxing back into Aiden. His arms tighten around me. Even through the material of my dress, I can still feel the strength in his arms, the heat of his body.
It’s not just that I’ve barely been touched by a man in the last four years, although that certainly plays a role.
But the real reason is the man currently holding me in his arms. For years I’ve harbored my crush, indulged in the occasional daydream where he’d smile—really smile—at me before asking me out for a drink.
That’s as far as I’d allow my dreams to go.
Anything more felt disrespectful and dangerous.
Why concoct a fantasy that would never come true?
Liam speaks up. “Got it. Let’s have you two head inside and face each other on the other side of the glass.” He grins. “Lovey-dovey.”
“Like you’re whispering lovers’ secrets,” Dylan adds, her voice lingering on the last word in a way I can only describe as sinister.