Chapter 19
19
JARED
I paced the hallway between my suite and Amelia’s, my footsteps hushed on the plush carpet.
I checked my watch for what felt like the hundredth time, groaning in frustration.
The dinner was starting soon, and Amelia was still in her room.
I hadn’t seen her since we arrived in Miami this morning, but based on the charges on my card, she’d had a very productive—and expensive—day.
I was thrilled she took herself shopping, but was she actually going to put the clothes on and get her ass out here or what?
I stopped in front of her door, rapping my knuckles against it.
“Amelia? You ready?”
“Just a minute!” she called back, her voice muffled.
She sounded flustered, like she was struggling with something.
I frowned. I’d undressed enough women and then helped them get dressed to know these things often required help.
Whoever thought to put zippers that went from ass to neck wasn’t thinking practically.
Women had to be contortionists to get dressed.
I was willing to help.
Even if it was a little self-serving.
“You need a hand in there?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
There was a pause, and then the door opened.
Amelia stood there, her cheeks flushed, her hair perfectly styled, and her makeup flawless.
But she had her hand over the front of the dress, clearly trying to keep it up.
“I can’t get it zipped by myself,” she said with a sigh.
“Blasted thing.”
“Let me help,” I said.
I stepped inside, closing the door behind me, and took a moment to really look at her.
The dress was stunning—a beaded designer gown that hugged her curves.
My gaze lingered on her breasts for a moment longer than necessary, but I couldn’t help myself.
She looked incredible.
“Turn around,” I said, my voice low.
She hesitated, then turned, holding her hair out of the way.
I reached for the zipper, my fingers brushing against her skin.
I felt a jolt of electricity at the contact.
Touching her ignited a fire in my soul.
I had to force myself to focus on the task at hand.
My pants suddenly felt too tight as I zipped her into the dress, my fingers lingering on her skin for a heartbeat too long.
She laughed nervously, her voice shaky.
“I guess I need to go on a diet. I tried this on in the dressing room, but I didn’t zip it all the way. I assumed it would fit. That’s what I get for assuming.”
“Absolutely not,” I rasped, my voice rough.
She turned to face me, and my mouth went dry.
“You look amazing,” I said, my voice softer than I intended.
I stepped back, my eyes raking over her from head to toe, taking in every detail.
The fabric clung to her in all the right places, accentuating the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips and her shapely legs.
The neckline was modest but somehow still managed to make my pulse spike—just enough to tease, to leave me wanting more.
The beads caught the light, shimmering around the tiny hint of cleavage she was showing.
She was a vision.
“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
Her cheeks flushed even darker.
She glanced away, fidgeting with the hem of the dress.
“Is it too much? I wasn’t sure what kind of event this was, so I just went with?—”
“No,” I interrupted, stepping closer.
My voice was low, rough, but I didn’t care.
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
She blinked up at me, her lips parting in surprise.
I didn’t miss the way her breath hitched, the way her chest rose and fell a little faster.
Good. She should be as affected as I was.
Because right now, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to reverse everything I’d just done and unzip that dress again.
I reached out without thinking, my fingers brushing against her arm.
I felt that same electric jolt from before, like touching her had set something on fire in my veins.
I wanted to kiss her, to pull her into my arms, and give in to the desire that had been building between us since fate threw us together.
That night in her lab had done nothing to quench the thirst I had for her.
It only made it worse.
But instead of grabbing her and yanking her body against mine, I took a deep breath and extended my arm for her to take.
“Shall we, madam?”
She nodded, slipping her arm through mine.
I led her out of the room.
The tension between us was burning bright as we walked to the elevator.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Standing beside her, I felt like I was breaking out in a cold sweat.
I turned to her, my mouth opening to suggest we go back upstairs and finally work this tension out of our systems, damning the consequences, when the elevator stopped, and more people got on.
It was a sign. I had to keep my hands to myself.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay calm as we rode down to the lobby.
The elevator doors slid open.
I led Amelia into the lobby, my hand resting lightly in the small of her back.
The low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses filled the air as we approached the ballroom.
I could feel her tense slightly when my hand pressed against her, but she held her head high, that quiet confidence I admired so much shining through.
The moment we stepped into the room, heads turned.
I wasn’t surprised. Amelia looked like she’d stepped out of some glamorous, old Hollywood film—classic, timeless, and utterly breathtaking.
I caught a few envious glances from some of the women and a few appreciative ones from the men.
My pressure against her back increased, like I was trying to brand her.
Mark her as mine. I didn’t care that I had no business to make such claims.
“Jared!” A booming voice cut through the chatter.
I turned to see Dr. Marcus Hale, one of the top neurologists in Miami, striding toward us with a wide grin.
“Glad you could make it. Who’s this vision?”
“This is Dr. Amelia Pritchard,” I said, my tone casual but laced with pride.
“She’s the newest addition to the Welch Foundation. Amelia, this is Dr. Marcus Hale. We’ve worked together on a few cases.”
Amelia extended her hand, her smile warm and professional.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hale.”
“Please, call me Marcus,” he said, shaking her hand eagerly.
“Anyone working at the Welch Foundation has to be brilliant. And a glutton for punishment, with this guy. What’s your area of expertise?”
“Brain mapping and traumatic brain injuries,” Amelia replied.
“I’ve been particularly focused on how TBI affects memory retention and cognitive function over time.”
Marcus’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low whistle.
“Impressive. That’s a tough field. Jared’s lucky to have you on board. It’s important work.”
I felt a surge of pride at his words, though I wasn’t sure if it was for her or for myself.
Probably both. Amelia was brilliant and having her at the foundation was a win for all of us.
“Thank you,” Amelia said, her cheeks tinged with pink.
“I’m just grateful for the opportunity.”
Marcus chuckled, clasping his hands together.
“Well, if Jared hasn’t already made it clear, we’re all excited to have you here. More you than him, if I’m being honest.”
“Hey,” I said, laughing.
“I’m not that bad.”
Marcus studied my face.
“Hmm, I can’t remember the last time I heard you laugh.” He looked at Amelia.
“Is he sick?”
She smiled and shook her head.
“Give him a second. I’m Jared will offend someone soon enough.”
Marcus barked another laugh.
“Brilliant and funny? It’s truly been a pleasure to meet you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab a drink before the speeches start. Don’t let this one drag you into too much trouble, Amelia,” he added with a nod in my direction before disappearing into the crowd.
“Let’s get a drink,” I suggested.
We made our way over to the bar, my hand still resting in the small of her back.
I could feel her warmth through the fabric of her dress.
It took every ounce of self-control not to pull her closer.
“Was that a friend of yours?” she asked.
“Oh, Marcus? Kind of.” I thought about how best to explain it.
“It’s more like, he’s one of my few colleagues with a thick skin. People get so upset when I’m just being honest with them, but he seems to like a straight shooter.”
“Well, it’s nice to know not everyone hates you.” Her smile took some of the edge off it.
“Even the ones that hate me respect me.” I shrugged.
“That’s good enough for me.” I raised my hand to call the bartender over.
“Whiskey, neat.” I turned to Amelia.
“What about you?”
“Gin and tonic, please,” she replied, her British accent making the request sound almost regal.
The bartender nodded and got to work.
I leaned against the bar, my eyes scanning the room.
“Marcus wasn’t wrong,” I said casually.
“Your work is impressive. I read your last paper. Twice.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“You did?”
“Of course. I don’t hire anyone without knowing exactly what they’re capable of.” The corner of my mouth lifted in a smirk.
“And you, Dr. Pritchard, are more than capable.”
She flushed, her gaze dropping to the counter.
“Thank you, Jared. That means a lot.”
The bartender slid our drinks across the counter, and I handed Amelia hers before picking up my own glass.
I raised it slightly in a silent toast, and she clinked her glass against mine, her eyes meeting mine over the rim.
We moved back into the crowd in search of our table.
Before we could get their, a colleague waved at us before making his way toward us.
“Jared, I had no idea you were bringing this brilliant woman tonight,” the stocky man said.
“Hunter.” I nodded. “This is…”
“Dr. Pritchard!” he said, his face lighting up.
“I’ve read your research on TBI. It’s groundbreaking stuff.”
Amelia smiled, her cheeks flushing.
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
Hunter fawned over her.
He knew every detail about her research.
The two of them were caught up in a conversation that revealed they shared a passion for her work.
Watching her in her element was incredible.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, but not just because she was gorgeous.
The woman lit up when she talked about the challenges she faced in her research.
And she wasn’t just passionate; she was a genius.
I’d met plenty of beautiful women in my life and I’d taken most of them to bed, but it was rare to find someone with this intoxicating combination of intelligence and charm.
Her star shone brighter than anyone else’s, dazzling me in a way I had never felt before.
It was a strange feeling.
Was I falling for her?
Or was this just lust filling my head with rose petals and starlight?
Even if I was falling for her, so what?
I didn’t have the kind of lifestyle conducive to keeping her, to marrying her and having a family.
I’d given up everything—my own family included—to be where I was today.
But watching her, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe I could have both.
She and I were a lot alike.
She was someone who would understand my passion and dedication.
And she was loyal. I didn’t see her being a cheat like Gemma.
“We should take our seats,” I said when I noticed the waiters coming out with trays of food.
“We’ll have to talk more,” Hunter said.
“Let me give you my number…”
“I’ll make sure she gets it,” I said, suddenly feeling very possessive.
Hunter held out his card.
I grabbed it and slipped it into my pocket with a tight smile.
Amelia glanced at me, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t say anything.
Instead, she allowed me to guide her toward our table.
“You’re quite the celebrity tonight,” I murmured as we took our seats.
“Everyone wants a piece of you.”
“It’s nice to be recognized for my work,” she said softly.
“But I’m here because of you, Jared. Because of the opportunities you’ve given me.”
She was beautiful, yes, but it was her mind, her drive, that captivated me.
I didn’t just want her.
I admired her. I saw her more as an equal, which was rare for me.
Someone that could sit down with me and talk about the stuff that intrigued me.
We could talk for hours and never run out of things to discuss.
The first course was served, and the room quieted as the evening’s speeches began.
I barely listened to the words.
My attention was fixed on Amelia—the way she nodded thoughtfully at the speaker, the way her fingers traced the rim of her glass, the way she occasionally glanced at me when she thought I wasn’t looking.
When the dinner ended, I felt conflicted.
I didn’t want it to be over.
No, that wasn’t accurate.
I wanted the dinner over, but I didn’t want the night with her to be over.
“Are you ready to leave?” I asked her when the dessert plates had been cleared.
“I am.” She nodded. “It looks like things are winding down.”
We rode the elevator back up to our floor in silence, the tension between us soaring.
When we stepped out, staring at the two doors side by side, Amelia cleared her throat.
“Goodnight,” she said.
“Thank you for bringing me.”
“You’re welcome.”
I watched her shut the door, then closed my eyes, my face to the ceiling.
What was wrong with me?
I’d never wanted someone so much in my life.
And yet, I didn’t know if I could have her.
She was right there.
Right there for the taking, but I was afraid to make the move.
I would only break her heart when I wasn’t the man she hoped I could be.
It wouldn’t be fair to her.
With one last look at her door, I went into my room and wondered how cold the shower could get.