Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
James
The Dorchester ballroom glittered with enough diamonds and political power to fund a small country's defence budget.
I adjusted my cufflinks and surveyed the room with professional assessment—exits mapped, security positions noted, potential threats catalogued.
Tonight, I was here as director of Banks Security Solutions, attending London's premier charity gala in my official capacity.
The fact that I was about to destroy the Kozlov family was simply business.
She stood across the room beside her mother, midnight blue silk catching the chandelier light.
Even from this distance, I could read the tension in her shoulders, the careful mask she wore when performing royal duties.
We'd barely spoken during the car ride here, her anger from this afternoon's revelations still crackling between us.
"Brooding again?" Spencer appeared at my elbow, looking every inch the Prime Minister in perfectly tailored evening wear. "You're making the diplomats nervous."
"They should be nervous."
"Christ, you're cheerful tonight." He accepted a champagne flute from a passing waiter. "Remind me why I attend these things?"
"Political necessity. Same reason I'm here—business connections."
Spencer's eyes swept the room with practiced ease. "Speaking of which, an interesting guest list tonight. Half the European intelligence community is here."
"Coincidence."
"Right." He took a sip of champagne. "And I suppose the Kozlov family's prominent placement at table twelve is also a coincidence?"
I didn't answer, but my jaw tightened slightly. Mikhail Kozlov sat just two tables away from the royal family, close enough to make my security instincts scream warnings. Too close. But the seating arrangements had been finalized weeks ago, and changing them now would only draw attention.
"James, darling." Veronica's voice preceded her arrival, all red curls and elegant curves in emerald silk. "You look positively murderous tonight. It's very attractive."
"Hands off, V," Rupert drawled, appearing beside her with his characteristic lazy smile. "Our James is a one-woman man. Even if that woman currently looks like she'd rather poison his champagne than share a dance."
I shot him a look that could have frozen hell. "Fuck off, Rupert."
"See? Murderous." Veronica's smile was wicked. "Though I have to say, the princess has excellent taste in evening wear. That dress is divine."
"And completely wasted on our grumpy bastard here," Rupert added cheerfully. "Tell me, James—when exactly did you become such a miserable sod? You used to be merely unpleasant."
"When I started associating with you," I replied curtly.
Spencer snorted. "He's been like this since he was twelve. Some things never change."
"Charming," Veronica murmured. "And here I thought all that brooding intensity was part of your mysterious appeal."
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed discreetly.
Marcel, my team leader, sending position updates.
I scanned the message quickly—all operatives in place, Kozlov under surveillance, evidence package ready for transfer to authorities.
Harrison had confirmed the intelligence was solid just hours ago.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
"Business calls?" Spencer asked, noting my distraction.
"Always does." I pocketed the phone and checked my watch. The speeches would begin in twenty minutes. "If you'll excuse me."
"Where are you going?" Veronica asked.
"To ensure tonight proceeds smoothly."
I moved through the crowd with purpose, nodding politely to acquaintances while keeping my focus on more important matters.
My team was positioned strategically throughout the ballroom—Marcel near the royal family's table, Davidson covering the main entrance, Thompson monitoring the service corridors.
But it was Mikhail who held my attention. The man sat with perfect composure, engaging in polite conversation with his dinner companions as if he weren't orchestrating a blackmail scheme against European royalty. His calm confidence was almost admirable.
It wouldn't last much longer.
I caught Evangeline's eye across the room and saw her excuse herself from a group of diplomats' wives. She moved toward the corridor leading to the ladies' room, her movements graceful but tense.
Perfect timing.
I waited thirty seconds, then followed.
The corridor was dimly lit and blessedly empty. I caught up to her just as she reached the restroom door.
"Evangeline."
She spun around, eyes flashing with anger. "Don't."
"Please. We need to talk."
"No, we don't." She moved toward the door, but I stepped sideways, blocking her path.
"Tonight ends this. The photographs, the blackmail, all of it. After tonight, you're free."
"Ends what?" Her voice was sharp, dangerous.
"All of it." I kept my tone flat, professional, even though being this close to her was tearing me apart. "You'll be free to make your own choices."
"How generous." The contempt in her voice cut deep. "The great James Banks, solving all my problems. Only this time with forced consultation."
The anger in her eyes made my chest ache. "You want details? Stay away from the royal table during the speeches. When this goes down, there might be complications."
"When what goes down?" She stepped closer, dark eyes blazing, and I had to fight the urge to reach for her. "What else aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing that concerns you anymore." The lie burned my throat. Everything concerned her. She was all that mattered.
The words hit their mark. I saw her flinch, saw hurt flash across her features before anger replaced it, and I hated myself for putting that pain there.
"If there is a threat to my mother you are absolutely wrong! It fucking does involve me!"
"Ahh but it appears the security extraordinaire Mr. James Banks is still under the belief that I'm just the helpless princess who needs protecting."
"You said it." Another lie. She was the strongest person I knew, and I was the coward who couldn't face losing her.
"Bastard." The word came out low, vicious. "You haven't changed at all. Still making decisions for everyone else."
"I know." My voice cracked slightly despite my efforts to keep it steady. "I know I fucked this up. I know I hurt you. But after tonight, it's over. I'll disappear. Permanently. Just like you wanted."
"Just like I wanted?" Something dangerous flickered in her eyes. "You think that's what I want?"
Christ, she was beautiful when she was furious. Beautiful and untouchable and everything I'd lost through my own stupidity.
Something cracked in her composure. "James—I can't keep living for the damage to happen."
I moved without thinking, backing her against the wall, my hands braced on either side of her head. She was so close I could smell her perfume, see the pulse hammering in her throat.
"This is what you want, isn't it?" My voice was rough. "For me to be the villain?"
"Stop—"
"Because that's easier than admitting you still feel this."
I kissed her like a drowning man grasping for air, like she was salvation and damnation wrapped in midnight silk. My hand tangled in her hair, destroying the elegant updo, silk strands sliding between my fingers the way they had in Sicily when she'd whispered my name against my throat.
She tasted like champagne and heartbreak and everything I'd been trying to forget.
Her plump, soft lips opened under mine with a soft gasp that shot straight through me, and for one perfect, devastating moment she was kissing me back with the same desperate hunger that had been eating me alive for six months.
Her hands fisted in my jacket, pulling me closer.
When she should have been pushing me away, and Christ, the feel of her body against mine after so long—the feel of her thigh brushing against my leg that I had pinned between hers.
Even when we touched through the fabric of her dress and my suit.
I could feel the contours of soft muscle graze against me.
The feeling took my breath away, I so desperately wanted to wrap those soft, warm and incredibly fucking sexy legs around me in exactly all the ways that Evangeline had ruined me for anyone else.
This was why I'd run. This fire between us that consumed everything else, that made me forget duty and consequences and every rational thought except the need to lose myself in her completely.
Then reality crashed back and she was pushing against my chest, breaking away from me, both of us breathing hard in the sudden space between us.
"No," she whispered, her lips swollen from my kiss, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. "No, we can't—this was a mistake."
I stepped closer, unable to stop myself. "Evangeline—"
Her palm cracked across my cheek with enough force to snap my head to the side.
"You are racking those up. This was a mistake!" she repeated, her voice stronger now, final.
I touched my stinging cheek, the sound of the slap echoing in the empty corridor. "It was goodbye. And I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Her dark eyes searched mine, desperate for something I couldn't give her.
I looked at her one last time—hair wild from my hands, lips still red from our kiss, tears threatening to spill over—and memorized every detail. Because after tonight, this moment would be all I had left.
Then I turned and walked away without answering, leaving her alone in the corridor with the weight of everything I couldn't say.
Back in the ballroom, the auction was concluding. I made my way toward the stage area, checking positions one final time. Marcel caught my eye from his post near the royal table and nodded once—all clear.
Everything was in place.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the MC's voice carried across the hushed ballroom, "Our final speaker this evening represents Banks Security Solutions. Please welcome Mr. James Banks."