Chapter 28
Malone’s smile faded. I could almost feel the tension he held coiled inside. Bless him, he wanted to protect me from potential embarrassment.
But I had mentioned dancing lessons, hadn’t I?
“Of course.” I bestowed a megawatt smile on Lucius and then winked at a nervous Malone as he backed off the floor, frowning in confusion.
Lucius met my smile with one of his own. Much like Edith Wharton’s titular house, it held no mirth, despite promises to the contrary. He was a man on a mission, and that mission appeared to be embarrassing me.
Well, good luck with that, Gramps.
Selena stepped up to the microphone. “Okay, folks, you know the rules. A tap on the shoulder means your foxtrot isn’t good enough, so step aside and let the professionals show you how it’s done.
Good luck beating me and—” She faltered when she saw that Lucius had chosen me as his partner.
“Well, good luck beating Mr. Malone and his new partner.”
She’d recovered quickly, but now she scowled at me.
So I’d taken her place in more ways than one. A delicious schadenfreude, that.
“Know how to foxtrot, little girl?”
I trained my eyes on Gramps and held my expression neutral. “A little.”
The DJ put on a new song, big band. Ah, Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight,” which happened to be Nana’s favorite song for teaching the foxtrot at cotillion classes.
Cotillion classes that she’d made me take more than once because she had to keep an eye on me, and it was easier to do that if I was on the floor with the other students. Also, she never had enough boys, so she taught me how to lead or follow depending on her needs for that day.
I preferred to lead, but Lucius Malone wasn’t one to follow, so I gave in to the slow-slow-quick steps, paying attention anytime Lucius wanted to twirl me or promenade.
A little zigzag from time to time. A dip.
By the time we’d rounded the floor twice, the only couples left were us and Nana and her partner.
She was making him look good, whispering her moves all the while.
Lucius’s eyes narrowed as he realized we were down to two.
He certainly wasn’t telling me his plans, but I adapted easily.
His eyes met mine, and I smiled. We had one thing in common: We both wanted to win.
I gave him a slight nod, and off we went.
Same-foot lunge? I faltered only briefly.
Weave, feather-step finish? We did it all.
As the song faded, I saw we were alone. We’d dipped before, but his last dip was deep enough I wished I’d taped everything in place. Blessedly, I remained family friendly.
The crowd around the dance floor applauded. He bowed, and I curtsied.
“Well, well,” he said as he led me from the floor, his eyes now crinkling with good humor and admiration. “I see young Ty has found a woman with a few tricks up her sleeve.”
Oh, he really had no idea.
“Thank you for the dance, Mr. Malone.”
“I think you’ve earned the right to call me Lucius,” he said as he lifted my hand to kiss it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I’ve lost a bet and need to settle up.”
My eyes cut to Nana, and I knew she’d originated that bet, thanks to her smug smile.
“Hold up, Grandpa.”
Blake placed a hand on his grandfather’s arm, but Lucius carefully took his arm back.
I sat in the nearest seat, pretending to scan the ballroom for Malone while eavesdropping on their edge-of-the-dance-floor conversation.
I wouldn’t have chosen that spot for a serious conversation, but I could pick out only 60 percent of what they were saying, so it wasn’t the worst idea.
Gramps told Blake he had nothing else to say to him. Blake said several things I couldn’t quite understand, probably because smarm required a lower tone of voice.
When Lucius snapped his fingers, I sat up straighter. Men in black polos and black slacks filtered through the crowd.
Security.
“Tell you what, grandson. You answer all their questions, then you and I can chat,” Lucius said before resuming his trek across the dance floor, straight to . . . my nana.
“You ready to blow this Popsicle stand?”
I whirled around to see Malone, his tie already loosened.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
When we passed the valet stand, I looked up at Malone. “Where are we going?”
“I thought long and hard—and I do mean hard—about how we can’t seem to enjoy ourselves uninterrupted. I decided to book a hotel room.”
“Oh.”
He stopped. “You don’t like that idea?”
“No, that was a good ‘oh.’”
He grinned and then grabbed my hand. “Glad you approve.”
“Let me just text Addie to see if she can take care of the kitten.”
That accomplished, we stepped into the elevator, and he was about to kiss me when another couple joined us. They, too, wore tux and evening gown. They, too, had booked a room for the night, which, based on how the woman was teetering, was probably a good idea.
The woman appeared to be my mother’s age, maybe mid-fifties. Her husband—I could see their wedding bands—about the same age. He steadied her elbow as she swayed, then his hand slid to rest on her lower back. She grinned at him over her shoulder, and his small smile twitched.
Despite all my talk of sex and nothing but, some inner part of me twisted, wanting the same long-term bond this couple had.
I had no way of knowing empirically that they had been married to each other for a long time, but I’d watched a lot of couples in my time.
I’d seen new love, old love, clandestine love, and plain ol’ lust. I would’ve bet the fifty I’d just won that this couple was one of the lucky ones, the kind of couple who got together and stayed together, the kind of couple who understood what they had found in each other, and appreciation of that rare bond kept them together through the ups and downs of marriage vows.
If anyone could ever give me a guarantee that I’d have that kind of love with another person, I would’ve taken it, but I’d seen too many marriages splintered. At this point staying together without a piece of paper seemed daring enough, and I hadn’t managed that.
Well, I had. My partner had not.
The man whispered something in the woman’s ear, and she laughed out loud. The brash sound echoed off the elevator walls, but she didn’t seem to care in the least that she had an audience. No one other than him mattered, and it was clear to see that nothing but her mattered to him.
My eyes met Malone’s; his were once again fire and ice.
They got off the elevator on the floor before ours.
Before the door closed completely, Malone pulled me in for a long, searching kiss.
The elevator lurched to a stop, but he took his lips from mine only when the doors opened.
Down the hall we went, my hand in his, but I had to take two steps for every one of his, so I was glad for the sneakers.
Once we reached the door to a suite at the end of the hall, he held the key to the sensor, and we were in.
I reached for him, but he said, “Hold up.”
Something akin to dread threatened to bring my meal back up. Surely, he wasn’t going to call it all off now.
“Where’s your phone?” he asked with all the sternness of a nineteenth-century schoolmaster.
“My phone?”
“Yep.”
He brandished his and then made a production of holding the buttons to power it down before swiping with a flourish to turn it off.
I took my phone from my pocket and did the same.
Then my back was against the wall, and Malone’s lips were on mine.
He kissed along my cheek. “No cats. No neighbors. No exes. No cousins. No phone calls.”
I took in a ragged breath. We were going to do this. There was no way out this time.
And I didn’t want one.
“Wait.”
“Wait what?”
“Condoms?”
He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Woman, I am a planner. I was running late to pick you up because I checked into this hotel room before I drove over to get you. I dipped up here earlier to make sure everything was in place.”
I looked beyond him to see electric tealights flickering. Rose petals on the bed. “Oh.”
“Is that another good ‘oh,’ I hope?”
I bit my lip as I nodded, tears pricking my eyes. “No one’s ever gone to this much trouble for me.”
“More’s the pity, Stark,” he said as his hand caressed my cheek.
I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him, a slower kiss this time.
He backed toward the bed, leading me as he went.
He spun me around and sat me on the edge of the bed, then crouched to take one of my shoes.
“I considered drinking champagne from one of your shoes, but I think I’ll pass, if that’s okay with you. Might ruin the glitter.”
“And sparkly is fancy,” I said, as he unlaced my high-tops and placed them on the floor. He then stood and kicked off his shoes. They went flying in either direction, no heed paid to whether he stretched them out by removing them without unlacing them first.
I stood to help him with his tie as he shrugged out of his jacket. “I feel as though I’m unwrapping a present.”
“No, Stark, pretty sure you’re the present.”
My fingers trembled as I labored to undo the buttons on his vest, then his shirt, then his cuff links—all of which eventually ended up on the floor. “Well, you’re an obstacle course, Malone.”
“And for once, you aren’t,” he said, kissing my shoulder as he unzipped my dress.
“We’ll see about that.”
My dress pooled at my feet.
“Yep. Definitely looks better on the floor,” he said.
My eyes traveled to his tattoo. I traced it with my finger, then traced a line down his chest to his belt buckle, causing him to suck in a breath. He put a hand over mine. “I’m a big believer in ladies first.”
“Malone, I’m nearly naked already.”
“Nearly,” he said as he unclasped my bra. “But nearly is not good enough.”
My bra hit the floor, and his hands became my new support. I gasped.
“Perfect,” he said.
“Nobody’s perfect.”
“Hush and let me take my fill of you. I skipped dessert for a reason.”
I didn’t have time to question what he meant by that because he had my hair at the nape of my neck, gently tugging, his mouth on mine. I gave in to the moment, utterly adrift in the feel of him, the taste of him, the very essence of him.
He worshipped my body with a gentle fierceness. Tears again pricked my eyes.
He did, in fact, intend to ruin me for all other men.
Somehow, I’d landed on the bed, and now Malone slid down my body, gathering my thighs over his shoulders, about to do something Ken had done precisely once. I sat up on my elbows. “Malone?”
“Oh, please don’t say ‘anchovies,’” he said while tracing my calf, an area I’d never considered an erogenous zone until that very minute.
“You want to do this?”
“Most emphatically yes.”
And so he did. At the first touch of his tongue, I lost all thought. With seconds, orgasm found me, and I had a new appreciation for the phrase “earth-shattering.”
“Stark, you’re supposed to make a man work for it,” Malone said with a chuckle from where he now stood at the foot of the bed, working with his belt.
Another full-body shudder came over me. “I meant to play it coy, but . . .”
He dropped trou, and I sucked in a breath at the sight of him: broad shoulders, trim waist, sculpted arms and legs, and an impressive erection.
“Two five seven,” I said.
“What are you—oh,” he said with a grin. “But I don’t need your Social Security number.”
“Just covering my bases,” I said.
Condom now on, he joined me on the bed, kissing me breathless and using his hands to touch and tease me back to the edge. I whispered, “July fourth.”
“A firecracker, huh?” He traced the outline of my breast.
“Jefferson. You can steal my identity if you would only—”
He kissed my words away, and then his body joined mine.
Time both slowed down and sped up. Amid the wonder of it all, I looked up to see that small muscle in his jaw tighten with the effort to restrain himself.
That act of self-denial sent me hurtling once more, and he soon joined me before collapsing at my side.
Still panting, I laid a hand on his cheek before whispering, “You’ve definitely ruined me.”
He turned his face to kiss my hand. “I was about to tell you the same thing.”