Chapter 31
ADRIAN
Sebastian was basking in the applause, champagne glass raised high as he grinned at the audience.
Mom looked pleased with everything from her spot backstage.
I stood at stage left with my eyes on the crowd in search of Elizabeth.
I had seen her just before the show started but she wasn’t in that spot anymore.
I hated the chasm between us. I didn’t know when the switch had happened, but I needed her.
She calmed me. Not just the usual way. It was like my soul settled.
For most of my life, I’d always felt a strange energy.
Maybe it was hyperactivity or maybe it was just the way my brain was wired.
I was just always the kid with ten projects and a hundred thoughts running through my head.
I was pretty sure that’s why my dad got me into the model-airplane thing. It calmed me down. Had me focusing on just one thing.
And now I was focused on Elizabeth, like she filled the same soothing role the building had.
I spotted her and stepped off the stage to go to her. I hated that I couldn’t stand with her and watch the show but it was a shitshow behind the scenes. I was going to kick Sebastian’s ass for that later. I had suspected he didn’t have shit locked down.
Thankfully, the show went off just fine, but it had been close. The music Sebastian wanted wouldn’t load so we had to go with the backup plan. My backup plan because Sebastian didn’t ever plan for shit to go wrong. I happened to know there would always be something that failed.
Elizabeth was chatting with a couple of people. I was about halfway there when I heard my name.
Fuck. Sebastian.
“Everyone, please congratulate my big brother,” Sebastian said. “Uh-oh, did he sneak away with his fiancée?”
The crowd laughed. I sighed and kept moving toward Elizabeth. I was taking her up there with me. She saw me coming and frowned.
“Get up there,” she hissed.
I grabbed her hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked as I pulled her along.
“You’re coming with me.” I didn’t give her time to protest, just led her up the steps and onto the stage where Sebastian was waiting.
The crowd’s applause somehow intensified when they saw us together. America’s sweethearts, the narrative went. The perfect couple at Fashion of Love Week.
I kept Elizabeth’s hand firmly in mine, positioning her slightly in front of me, my other hand settling on her waist. Not just because we needed to maintain appearances, though that was part of it.
But because I’d seen Clara during the show.
While Elizabeth had been mesmerized by the runway, watching each piece with that designer’s eye she had, I’d been tracking Clara’s movements after she finished her walk. She had been eyeballing Elizabeth. I knew she would try and make a move. She was looking for weakness. Planning her attack.
Clara was a viper. Elizabeth could hold her own, but she shouldn’t have to deal with the venom Clara would spew. I would shield Elizabeth the best I could.
Even now, Clara stood near the edge of the crowd, not looking at me at all. She was staring directly at Elizabeth. The expression on her face made my blood run cold. Pure calculation mixed with jealousy, sizing up her competition like a predator assessing prey.
I pulled Elizabeth closer, felt her glance up at me with surprise. But she didn’t pull away, just leaned into my side as Sebastian continued talking.
Elizabeth was strong. I knew that. She’d proven it over and over the past two weeks, pushing through her fears, rising to every challenge. But Clara was a different kind of challenge. Clara was vicious when she wanted to be, with a talent for finding weaknesses and exploiting them.
Elizabeth, at her core, was kind. Sweet. Good. She wasn’t used to the cutthroat world I’d been brought up in. The world where Clara thrived and ruled. I knew there were plenty of models that would line up behind Clara simply because they were afraid of her.
Clara didn’t have a heart, or if she did, she’d buried it so deep under ambition and image that it no longer functioned.
No matter what was happening between Elizabeth and me—whether this was real or still just pretend, whether she felt what I felt or I was alone in this—she didn’t deserve to have Clara tear into her. Didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of whatever poison Clara would spit.
Sebastian finished his speech to more applause. We all took a bow together, the Blackwell brothers and Elizabeth united on stage. As soon as the curtain of celebration gave us cover, I leaned close to Elizabeth’s ear. “We’re leaving.”
“What? Adrian, the party—”
“Can happen without us.” I kept my hand on her waist, guiding her toward the stage exit. “Trust me.”
She did, following without further protest as I led her backstage and then away from the main celebration areas entirely. We wound through corridors, away from the noise and lights and the woman I could practically feel tracking our movement.
“Where are we going?” Elizabeth asked, but she didn’t sound worried. Just curious.
“Away from the bullshit.” I pulled her down another hallway lined with portraits of the manor’s ancestors. “I want to show you something.”
We were in parts of the manor that weren’t technically off limits but also weren’t part of the public spaces Sebastian had rented. Old family sections preserved and maintained but rarely used.
Elizabeth’s eyes went wide as we passed painting after painting, each one probably worth at least six figures. I caught her slowing to look at some of the antique furniture.
“We shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, but she was smiling.
“They won’t care. We’re paying enough to rent this place for the night. Just don’t break anything.”
She looked offended. “I wasn’t planning on roughhousing.”
I smiled and tried a door handle. Locked. The next one opened into what looked like a morning room, all pale blue and white with furniture under dust covers. Elizabeth couldn’t resist lifting some of the covers.
“Look at this!” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “It’s an actual settee. Not the modern kind, but old.”
I loved that she was so excited. “Come on,” I said. “There’s more.”
I opened another door and found exactly what I was looking for.
It was a study with all dark wood paneling and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The smell of cigars was powerful. Two massive leather armchairs faced a fireplace, and in the corner, a bar cart with crystal decanters caught the moonlight from the windows.
“Oh,” Elizabeth breathed, stepping inside. “This is beautiful.”
“Thought you might like it.” I moved to the bar cart, examining the decanters. Whiskey in one, brandy in another, something amber I couldn’t identify in the third. I poured two glasses of what I hoped was expensive scotch.
“Adrian,” she gasped. “You can’t just help yourself.”
“The owners won’t mind. Like I said, we’re paying enough.”
She took the glass I offered and took a small sip. “Not bad.”
She wandered the room, touching book spines gently, examining titles. Then she noticed something in the corner and let out a delighted laugh.
“Is that a record player?”
I looked where she was pointing, an old turntable, probably from the sixties, with a record already on it. “Looks like it.”
“Can we?” She was already moving toward it, with that excitement on her face that I’d come to love. The way she approached new things with such genuine wonder.
“Go ahead.”
She set down her glass and carefully lowered the needle. For a moment, there was just the crackle and pop of vinyl, and then music filled the room. Something classical, strings and piano, slow and romantic and perfect for the moment.
Elizabeth turned to me and smiled. “Dance with me?”
I set down my glass and crossed to her, taking her hand, pulling her close. “My pleasure.”
We swayed together in the study, away from the party and the intrusive cameras. We were far from anyone who expected us to perform. It was just us.
No audience. No expectations. No pretending.
“I feel like royalty,” Elizabeth murmured against my chest. “Dancing in a manor house, wearing designer clothes, drinking expensive liquor.”
“You should feel like royalty. You belong in places like this.” I meant it. She’d transformed over the past two weeks from the terrified woman in my office to someone who moved through these spaces with confidence.
She’d always had the potential. She’d just needed someone to give her a chance.
“Adrian.” She pulled back slightly, looking up at me. “About earlier, what I said—”
“Don’t.” I stopped her, one hand coming up to cup her face. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”
“But I hurt you. I could see it. And I didn’t mean to.”
“Elizabeth.” I pressed my thumb gently against her lips. “Stop talking.”
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating in the dim light. “But—”
I kissed her.
She made a sound of surprise that quickly turned into desire—and kissed me back just as desperately. Her hands moved down my back and pulled me closer. I backed her up until she hit the desk, lifting her to sit on its edge.
“The owners,” she gasped as my mouth moved to her neck.
“They can bill me for damage.” I was already working on the zipper of her dress, needing to feel her skin, needing this barrier gone. “Elizabeth, tell me to stop if you want me to.”
“Don’t stop.” Her hands were in my hair, tugging almost painfully. “Don’t you dare stop.”
The record played on as I kissed down her neck and tried to get to her breasts, but the dress was in the way.
“We should go back to the hotel,” I managed, even as my hands cupped her breasts. My thumbs rubbed over her pebbled nipples.
“Yes.” But she was pulling me closer, not pushing me away. “We should definitely go back to the hotel.”
“People will notice we’re gone. I don’t want them to walk in on us.”
I kissed her again, poured everything I couldn’t say into that kiss. All the feelings I was too scared to voice. I was desperate to have her, but she was right. Someone could walk in on us at any time. I wouldn’t humiliate her like that.
When we finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, I rested my forehead against hers.
“Hotel,” I said firmly. “Now. Before I do something incredibly inappropriate in someone else’s study.”
She laughed, the sound breathless and happy. “Okay. Hotel.”
We straightened our clothes and tried to make ourselves presentable. Elizabeth’s lips were swollen from kissing, her hair slightly mussed, and she looked absolutely beautiful. I adjusted one of her straps and tried to fix her hair.
“I don’t think there’s any hope for it,” she said.
“Sorry.”
She shrugged. “We’re newly engaged. If anyone sees our dishevelment, oh well. We won’t be the only ones sneaking off tonight.”
I took her hand, and we slipped back through the manor corridors like thieves stealing away from a heist. We encountered a couple of people, but given their own states of dishevelment, they weren’t talking.
That was exactly what Sebastian had been going for.
I had a feeling there were plenty of people skulking around in the dark.
I found our driver in the sea of waiting limousines and SUVs. I gave him the hotel address and sat in the back seat with Elizabeth tucked against my side.
She was quiet on the drive. I didn’t push her to talk. Some things were better said—or not said—in private.
Instead, I focused on the show. “What’d you think?” I asked. “And I want your professional opinion.”
She tilted her head to look up at me. “It was incredible. Sebastian’s vision is so different from yours, but equally powerful. Where you honored tradition, he celebrated breaking it.”
“That’s Sebastian. He’s never met a boundary he didn’t want to cross.” I ran my thumb along her knuckles. “Did you see anything that inspired you? For your own designs?”
“Everything inspired me.” Her excitement was electric. “The way he played with transparency was impressive. I loved how he made something that could have been cheap look expensive. The confidence of it all.” She paused. “And Clara looked stunning in that silver dress.”
There it was. The real reason for her earlier coolness.
“She did her job well,” I said carefully. “That’s what models do.”
“Adrian, you don’t have to downplay it. She’s gorgeous. Anyone can see that.” Elizabeth’s voice was neutral, but I heard the underlying hurt. “And you two have history.”
“Had. Past tense.” I turned to face her. “Elizabeth, what Clara and I had was nothing. Convenience when we were in the same city, physical release with no emotional attachment. It meant nothing.”
“It meant something to her.”
“She only says that now that I’m off the market. Either way, it never meant anything to me.” I caught her chin, making her look at me. “And whatever it was ended long before I met you.”
“You don’t owe me explanations about your past relationships.”
“What if I want to give you explanations?” The words came out before I could stop them.
She sighed. “Don’t. Please. Can we not?”
The car pulled up to our hotel before I could respond. The doorman opened the door.
We rode the elevator in silence. I kept her hand in mine, but neither of us spoke.
The suite door clicked shut behind us, and suddenly we were alone again. Truly alone, without the threat of interruption or the need to perform for anyone.
I should keep my distance but dammit, I needed her. I grabbed her and kissed her. When she enthusiastically kissed me back, I led her to the massive bed and finished what we started at the manor.