Chapter Thirty
CHAPTER
THIRTY
That evening was Otis Garfield’s charity event at the National Theater. Brayden emerged from the dressing room in a black tuxedo with satin lapels. Scarlett stared at him, clean-shaven and pink-cheeked from the shower, with his hair in artful disarray, and had to remind herself to breathe.
“Look at you. So handsome.” She rose from her desk and ran her hands up his chest, letting him see plainly on her face how much she wanted him.
Brayden’s gaze raked over her red satin dress. He brushed his fingers over the glossy waves of her hair, arranged that afternoon by a stylist just for the event. He let his hands rest lightly on her hips. “You’re so gorgeous I’m speechless.”
“I wish we had more time tonight.” All she wanted was to spend the evening in bed with him, but they were due to depart for the charity event any minute.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her to him. “Me too. But we have tomorrow. No Parliament tomorrow.”
“And now that Cass is here, do you feel better?”
His face was so close to hers their noses touched. “Much better. Especially with the new security setup.”
Her smile became devious. “Maybe we could—”
A knock at the door cut her off.
“Come in,” called Scarlett as she disentangled herself from Brayden’s arms.
Charlie appeared in the doorway. “The boat’s ready.”
“Thanks,” she said, trying her best to look grateful.
Charlie disappeared, and she turned back to Brayden.
“All I want to do right now is undress you. I think you’ve had a much easier time this week than I have.
I’m addicted to you.” Scarlett said the words like they were nothing, but deep down, insecurity had crept in.
They were still so new, and she didn’t know what their normal was.
She made to leave, expecting him to make some lighthearted joke, but he overtook her, slamming the door and planting himself firmly in front of it.
He put his hands on either side of her face. “You think this has been easy for me?”
“You made it look easy.”
Gripping her wrists in his large hands, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Eating you out was the only thing that kept me going this week. Being this close to you…” He let out a groan that was half-growl. “I saw that lace thong you left sitting out. Are you wearing it now?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Of course she’d left it out to tease him. To make him imagine her in it, like he was right now.
“I want to take it off with my teeth and spend the rest of the night finding new ways to make you come.”
Lightness filled her chest, and her heart raced as she tried to break his grasp to touch him. “Good—”
“I’m pretty wound up, Scarlett,” he interjected, holding her firmly in place. “If you push me now, I’m going to ruin your hair and this ravishing dress before we even make it to the event.” He leaned closer, and his tongue traced her earlobe. “Still think I’ve had an easy time this week?”
She gasped as he licked her, the last of her frustration melting into pure need.
“I’m tempted to do the wrong thing right now, but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t show tonight. So let’s go to the event, and when we get home, I’ll show you exactly what the inside of my mind looked like this week. Can you wait until then, or do you want it now?”
He sounded so on edge. Had this been lurking beneath his control all week? Her cheeks flushed thinking of it.
She took a shuddering breath and forced herself to think clearly; to remember why tonight mattered.
The heat in her dropped away as she pictured the box reserved for her and what a letdown it would be for Otis Garfield and his charity if they didn’t show.
She wanted Brayden, needed him, but she could wait a few hours.
Then, tonight, they could be together, and all day tomorrow.
She bit her lip and then smiled. “I can wait till tonight.”
He kissed her briefly but forcefully. “Good.”
Scarlett practically floated as they walked arm in arm through the marble lobby of the National Theater.
She couldn’t have been prouder to be on Brayden’s arm as they made their way to the bar.
She was also grateful Cass was trailing behind them.
She did have a mental countdown till the time they could graciously leave, but she was still happy to be here. With him.
Many of the peers of Parliament loitered nearby in the lobby. Otis Garfield had done his part to fill the theater’s seats. As she looked around the room, Scarlett bumped into someone while she was looking the other way.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, turning to offer her apologies.
It was Moira Ashworth, looking devastating in a floor-length, long-sleeve black dress.
“It’s quite all right, Lady Heroux.” Moira looked Brayden up and down, and inwardly Scarlett seethed at the way she studied him. “Lord Maddox. We haven’t met, but I’ve seen you in the papers this week. I’m Lady Ashworth, Scarlett’s aunt by marriage.”
The words “aunt by marriage” irked Scarlett. She wished she could reject the connection.
“Good evening.” Brayden’s expression was inscrutable.
Moira crossed her arms. “How have you been finding Soleil? It must be tough for someone like you to get by without magic.”
Brayden looked amused by the obvious insult and answered calmly.
“The people of Soleil are friendly. When I’m on the street, I swear someone stops me at least once a day to tell me they think it’s great Scarlett married someone from Clair de Lune.
” He looked down at Scarlett, his adoring gaze giving her butterflies.
Then he looked up at Moira. “Some say magic will be legal here in our lifetimes, so maybe I won’t have to live without it forever. ”
Moira’s eyes flashed. “I don’t know what part of town you’ve been hanging out in, but I assure you, the majority don’t see it that way.”
Brayden shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
“The medical healing alone would sway a lot of people,” added Scarlett.
Moira pursed her lips. “Perhaps. Please excuse me.” She strode off without another word.
“I refuse to believe most of the country thinks like her,” said Scarlett as they watched her go.
“Every day one of them dies and another young person becomes a voter who disagrees with her,” said Cass from behind them.
Scarlett snorted. “True. It’s just a matter of time.”
From the bar, they purchased champagne for Scarlett, a coffee for Cass, and a glass of red wine for Brayden, then they made their way up to their box.
The view from the upper tier was breathtaking even to Scarlett, who’d seen it many times before.
Brayden and Cass looked around in awe. It all dazzled—the red velvet seats, the gilded gold filigree covering the decorative molding, the chandelier that dangled from the end of an ornate globe in the center of the ceiling.
They settled in as Lord Buckland and Lord Garfield took the stage to give a quick speech about the veterans charity benefiting from the event, and then the performance began.
It was the famous opera inspired by the Great War, The Sorrowful.
With Brayden’s hand in hers, Scarlett sat attentive as the lead soprano strode onto the stage in period dress from two hundred years ago and belted out the famous opening number.
Scarlett half listened to the familiar music while she daydreamed about what would happen after the performance.
At intermission, they exited their box and headed for the lobby. Lord and Lady Spencer emerged from a box a few doors down from theirs, followed by Alastair and a friend of his that Scarlett knew well: Rufus Hill, son of Lord Hill, a Goldenrod.
“Here we go,” Brayden whispered, tightening his grip on her hand.
Scarlett’s stomach clenched. Please, Goddess, let Alastair not act like an absolute cake tonight.
“Not likely,” said Nori.
“Oy, Scarlett.” Rufus waved.
“Hello, Rufus,” she said, willing herself to look friendly and relaxed.
“It’s Lady Heroux now, Rufus. You’d think your own father wasn’t a lord,” Elestine admonished. “Good evening, Lady Heroux and Lord Maddox.”
“Rufus, this is my husband, Lord Brayden Maddox, and my bodyguard, Cass.”
“Good evening.” Brayden shook hands with Edward Spencer and Rufus. Alastair was buried in his phone. Cass remained standing just behind them, her eyes scanning the theatergoers around them.
“Will either of you be changing your names?” asked Elestine.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes, surprised Elestine would ask them about that in public. But then she glanced at Brayden, who gave her a one-sided smirk as he waited for her reply, and she relaxed. If he was amused by the question, she had nothing to worry about and might as well have fun with it.
“I’m tempted to take Maddox as my name. But maybe we’ll hyphenate.” Scarlett shrugged and was rewarded with comically shocked stares from both Edward and Elestine, black smoke above their heads.
“Maybe I should become Brayden Heroux,” added Brayden.
Scarlett looked up at him adoringly.
Edward’s brow furrowed. “No rush to figure it out until a child’s on the way.”
Scarlett stared at Edward. Was he trying to make them all as uncomfortable as possible?
“Shall we make our way to the lobby bar?” asked Alastair in a bored tone.
“Up for another drink?” Scarlett asked Brayden.
He murmured his agreement.
They followed Rufus and the Spencers downstairs. At the foot of the stairs, Elestine and Edward started toward the closest bar, next to an enormous marble statue of the three muses—the mythical patronesses of the arts in Soleil.
“Mother, Father,” called Alastair, bringing them to a halt. “The bartender at the bar near the entrance told me earlier they’ve got a thirty-year-old whiskey only at that particular bar.”
“Oh, excellent.” Edward went after Alastair.
“Well, I guess we’re off that way, dear.” Elestine grasped Scarlett’s hand before trailing after her family.