Chapter 15
Elexia
The bar is a mix of dark wood and amber light.
I’m currently slumped on a velvet stool, my feet finally free from the small heels, aka medieval torture devices.
They’re tucked under the brass rail while I nurse a fresh drink and try to wrap my head around the fact that the last hour actually happened.
River leans against the bar beside me, her gold dress shimmering as she swirls her drink. For the last ten minutes, she’s been grilling me, practically glowing the whole time.
“No way,” she says, her voice a hushed, scandalous whisper. “They were just standing there the whole time? And you didn’t even notice?”
I shrug, heat creeping up my neck. “Not the whole time. I don’t know. I was…a little preoccupied.”
River tips her head back and belts out a rich laugh that turns a few heads. “Girrrrl, you’ve made it! You have a walking, breathing dark-romance girly book boyfriend. He’s possessive, he’s lethal, and he provided you with a library-centered religious experience. This is so freaking perfect!”
I scrunch my brows, peering at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “So, since we’re sharing…where is your dark book boyfriend for my gold-plated queen?”
River leans in, her perfume wrapping around me like a hug. She kisses my cheek, cooing low in my ear, “Babes, you know I’m the female version, right? Just a bit softer….with more glitter.” She winks.
I blush, remembering how she first snatched me up at the florist shop, flirting with me. She would not-so-subtly stalk me, coming in every day. Georgie was fine with it since she bought a bouquet every time. And she’d always give me a rose, tapping the back of my hand or bumping into me on purpose.
She’d been so commanding, so self-assured, it thrilled me. Dominance has always turned me on—the strength, the clear boundaries—but I was in such a bad place then, I didn’t know how to handle it. I was still healing from Brett, believing I was the problem.
River taught me I wasn’t.
She pulls back, her expression soft and genuine. She touches the back of my hand. “Really, Lex. I’m so happy for you. And I’m proud of you. For being here. For taking this.”
I shrug again, eyeing my glass. “It’s only been two days, Riv.”
She lifts her drink, sipping long, a wicked glint in her eyes. “If he’s this obsessed with you after two days, imagine what he’ll be like at the end of the week! He’ll be building you a pyramid out of the bones of his enemies by Friday.”
We both laugh at that. It disrupts all tension and makes my chest feel lighter.
But then River pokes me in the chest with a manicured nail.
“But honestly, I want to know more. You found him all beat up in an alley. But who is he really? Where did he come from? What’s the secret origin of the Irish God of Death? ”
“Let us not spoil the mystery in chapter two now, River,” a familiar, low rumble interrupts.
My body responds, my shoulders arching as longing spears my chest. Liam sweeps into our space like a living shadow. He’s discarded his jacket, his sleeves rolled up to showcase his powerful, tattooed forearms, and his gaze holds that wicked, knowing glint.
River smiles mischievously. “Oh, I think you’re in the teen chapters by now, Liam. At least the ones with the dog-eared pages.”
“Shame on you,” I slur and stick out my tongue.
A wave of dizziness hits me as I shift on my stool. Between the library, the adrenaline of the bathroom, and the vodka, my balance takes a vacation. I lurch forward, my hand missing the counter.
Liam is there, catching me with his steady, possessive hand.
“Sorry, Liam.” River reaches over to comb her fingers through my hair. “She’s not normally such a lightweight. Your ‘religious experience’ must have drained her.”
“Ugh, Riv!”
Liam just grins.
I try to protest with something sassy or clever, but it only comes out as a muffled, sleepy mumble against his chest.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “I reckon the night is coming to an end, then.”
“No, I’m fine,” I insist, looking toward the dance floor and silhouettes dancing beneath the chandeliers. “I don’t want to leave yet. We could dance again. I want to see the fountains. And the gardens.”
“Hey, Doodlebug, you can barely sit,” River points out firmly. “I’ll call an Uber, and we can check into a hotel. There’s a Marriott about twenty minutes out.”
“But…it’s so beautiful,” I gush. “It’s like a gothic romance. I want to live in these pages.” Oh, I’m definitely slurring.
Liam’s fingers brush my jaw, and he leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “Don’t worry your pretty head, Darlin’. This gothic romance isn’t ending in tragedy.”
He gives me a shit-eating grin, then sweeps me into his arms, making me squeak as my feet—still barefoot—dangle in the air. He gestures to River.
“Follow me.”
She snatches up my heels and follows while Liam carries me through the manor, toward a set of grand, gilded elevators. As we ascend, the bass of the party fades, replaced by a quiet, opulent luxury.
Where is he leading us?
River, trailing behind us, has removed her heels too, her bare feet silent on the thick, plush carpets. “I do love a good intrigue, Liam.” Her voice echoes in the grand hallway we’ve entered. “But if you’re bringing us to some sort of vampire parlor for a dark ritual, I’ll be leaving marks…on you.”
He smirks, arms tightening around me. “I’ll keep that in mind, River.”
We walk down a hall lined with portraits of powerful-looking people before arriving at a massive, carved wooden door.
“This is your room, River,” Liam informs her. “Lexie and I are in the one next door.”
River’s jaw literally drops. She looks at the door, then at Liam, then back at the door. “What? You’re not fucking with me, right? We’re staying here?”
My head shoots up in surprise, but my forehead catches on Liam’s jaw. His head snaps back.
“Ow…Oh my God, I’m sorry,” I slur, my hand fumbling with his face.
Liam grunts, rubbing his wounded jaw. “No harm done, mo Róisín.” He crooks a smile at River before pushing open her door. “The owner and I are old friends. He has agreed to host us for the next week or two.”
River actually jumps up and down with a little squeal. “That is so grand! Thank you, Liam. Seriously.” She leans in and plants a quick kiss on his cheek.
I immediately poke her in the chest. And warn not so subtly, Hands off the book boyfriend, Riv.
She cocks her hip, winking at me. “I have to fly to Aspen in a few days for my parents’ anniversary. But spending an extended weekend in a castle will be the highlight of my year. For Lexie? Highlight of her life.” She hands me my heels, and I clutch them to my chest.
I can’t argue. I just lift a hand in a lazy wave as Liam starts moving again. “Night, Riv.”
“Night, Lex. Don’t be too loud, you two! I have excellent hearing.”
I stick out my tongue. He nods. A silent agreement: we’re not there yet.
Liam takes me into the room next door, and my breath catches all over again.
It’s expansive. A massive four-poster bed dominates the center, draped in heavy, blood-red silks. But the far wall kills me. Double arched window doors lead onto a private stone balcony. Beyond them, the moonlit gardens stretch out like a silver sea.
I drop my shoes onto the gold-flecked rug.
“Oooh…” I mutter, peering toward the nearby bathroom, where marble and gold gleam in the shadows. “You think there’s a Jacuzzi tub in there?”
Liam snickers, bringing me to the bed and lowering me onto the soft, cool sheets. “Probably, but you can learn tomorrow, Luv. It’s time for you to get some rest. You’ve had a long night of being a masterpiece.”
Aww! I’m too exhausted to melt.
As he settles me into the pillows, a massive yawn escapes. I fumble with my dress zipper. “Can you…can you take the dress off? It’s pretty, and I don’t want to ruin the fabric.”
Liam’s hand pauses in my hair. A slow, dangerous smirk spreads across his face. “Of course, Darlin’. But you understand you’ve officially crossed into the sharing one bed naked trope.”
I shrug, halfway to sleep. “Compared to the others we crossed off the list, this is pretty tame. At least there’s no Bible this time.”
He grins and stands, moving to the foot of the bed.
I lift my heavy lids, watching as he removes his clothing, one by one.
Slow, with purpose, he invites me to watch.
But when he pulls his shirt over his head, my brows lift.
The bandage on his side has come loose, the white gauze dangling and revealing the dark, angry bruise.
“Liam,” I murmur, reaching up with a shaking hand. “Your bandage…let me re-wrap it. I should—”
He grips my wrist, his fingers firm but gentle, stopping me. “I think not, Luv.”
My pulse spikes at his dark and heavy gaze. “The sight of you naked already has me hard enough, Lexie. I don’t need your pretty fingers skatin’ along my skin, too. We both need a rest, or neither of us is gettin’ any sleep tonight.”
He drops his pants. I glance down, parting my lips, resisting the urge to lick them. Yeah…his “happy” state is very much present.
A bit of sassy Lexie pride flickers. “Okay. Tomorrow. Just try not to sleepwalk yourself into killing another asshole tonight, okay? I’m all out of vomit for the evening.”
His chuckle reverberates through the room. “I’ll do me best, Darlin’.”
The mattress dips under his weight as he climbs in. He’s a wall of solid, radiating heat as he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling my back flush against his chest. I sigh, welcoming the safety of his hold and his scent—rain and expensive whiskey and a sense of home.
I close my eyes, a single prayer echoing in my mind as sleep finally claims me.
Please don’t let me wake up from this book.