Chapter 27
OLIVIA
I stopped breathing. Even though Ethan was on the other side of the tent, I could see him clearly. He wore a jet-black suit with a crisp white dress shirt, and the tie was red silk. A darker red than my dress, slightly closer to the red of blood than the bright hue I wore.
Holy hell.
He’d been talking with a young man, the one I recognized as Shawn’s assistant, and it was as if Ethan could sense my gaze on him, because his head turned my direction.
Holy shit.
I’d forgotten how strong the effects of that stare could be. I flattened my palms against my thighs, pressing down and trying to calm the insane nerves fluttering inside me. Falling apart at the sight of a man? Weak. I wouldn’t allow it.
Even if he was wearing the hell out of that suit.
Holy fuck.
He ended his conversation and began his approach. I shifted my focus back to Jason and L, who stared at me, both grinning like fools. What—?
Oh, my God. That was when I realized I’d just said all those holy swear words . . . out loud.
“Olivia.”
I drew in a sharp breath and braced myself. “Ethan—”
He’d moved so close I had to tilt my head to look up at him. I couldn't breathe when his fingertips slipped behind my elbow and guided me with him as he backed up. That was, until he stopped moving and I collided with him. His thick arms encased me and gently shifted, encouraging me to move.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
The dark irises of his eyes were hypnotizing. “Attempting to dance with you, but you’ll have to start moving for it to work.”
Why was my brain so slow? Coherent thought was a challenge when he looked at me that way. I slid my fingers up his arms, over the smooth fabric of his suit jacket, and he took my hand. It was hard not to think about the last time we’d held hands, the moments after he’d severed his oxygen line.
“What are you doing here?” My voice was quiet, just louder than the melody wafting over us. “Are you done with the Abramos?”
“My part is done, yeah.”
His large hand was splayed out on my back, his thumb resting above the top of the zipper of my strapless dress, and it brushed over the bare skin there.
The simple touch, the connection, was intoxicating.
I’d been so lucky to find a dress last minute that not only fit, but was high enough to cover most of my scarred back.
“Oh.” That was all I could come up with. “Did you just get here?”
The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. “I couldn’t exactly hop on an Osterh?gen plane.”
He brought our entwined hands in, setting mine on the hardness of his chest and closing his rough hand on top of it, by his heart where I could feel the steady thump below my fingertips.
It was a gesture that promised to spin everything out of control, and it was a good thing his arms were around me, because my legs were rapidly becoming useless. He bent his head, bringing his warm breath down to my ear, and that breathing grew uneven and quick.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips ghosting a kiss into my neck.
A shiver slipped down through my body, and I uttered something that was supposed to be a thank you, but it was mumbled.
The heat of his face went away, and he looked down at me with a gaze so intense I was sure he could see right into me.
My mouth fell open.
“I know I’ve got stuff to talk about,” he said, “but I’m going to kiss you first.”
My mind was utterly blank. “Here?”
“Yeah.” His face was etched in determination as it lowered in. “I’m not waiting any longer.”
His kiss was . . . indescribable. Nuclear.
It radiated out for miles and miles, taking all with it.
His hand around mine hardened, crushing my fingers as if the kiss were too powerful and he needed something to hold on to.
To comfort him while he both delivered and endured what was so shocking my heart almost stopped.
His tongue filled my mouth, seeking mine.
Fire burned along every inch of me, but the worst was between my legs.
The ache was painful. Acute and unbearable.
The space around us cleared. The music faded to nothing, and the space emptied of people, so it was only us. Time stopped, and I wanted to remain like this, his mouth moving on mine, connecting with and tasting me.
But his soft lips drew a breath away. “Let’s go somewhere we can be alone.”
What? “We are alone.”
His shoulders lifted as he pulled in a deep breath and shot me a smile that only made my soft knees weaker.
The smile, I realized dimly, was because we were anything but alone on the center of the dance floor, couples swaying together all around us, some people gawking.
The bride caught my eye, gave a smile over her new husband’s shoulder, and winked.
I wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor and disappear.
“I’d like to continue being alone with you,” he said, “but without an audience.”
Ethan didn’t give me a chance to refuse, as if I would. He tugged me by the hand, leading me through the crowd, out into the freezing night without a coat, and up the stone steps to the glass doors of the mansion.
A security guard stood in the hallway just past the door to an available bathroom, no doubt to discourage guests from wandering farther than necessary into the house. Ethan spoke in German, and after considering the statement, the guard waved us along.
The hallway opened into a grand entryway with staircases on either side. My heels clacked and echoed across the marble flooring, then fell without a sound across the Persian rug. But of course he made no noise whatsoever as he strolled to the stairs.
“How did you get him to let us through?” I asked, climbing alongside him.
“I told him my girlfriend was diabetic and needed someplace quiet to take her insulin.” He’d delivered it in a straightforward tone, like what he’d said was no big deal. It was a lie, after all. Yet he’d called me his girlfriend.
Hadn’t I made it clear I wasn’t capable of a relationship?
“Do you know where you’re going?” I asked when we reached the darkened landing at the top of the stairs. I had to regain some control. From the moment he’d appeared, unexplained pressure pulled me to him. A force I was powerless against.
He grabbed the knob of the first door on his left, turned it, and after flipping on the lights, revealed what appeared to be a home office. “This’ll do.”
His hand was warm on my back as he guided me through the door into the masculine room that smelled of aged leather. There was a subtle thud as the door shut, and then the distinct click as he locked us in together.