37. Elle
37
ELLE
G littering chandeliers fill the ballroom with sparkling light. I sweep my gaze over the well-dressed men and women who dance on the shining marble floor or chat in smaller groups along the edges. None of them look like drug users to me, but apparently, people who are rich and bored are among those most likely to partake in recreational drugs.
Next to me, Tristan is also scanning the crowd. He still doesn’t like the idea of me being here, but I simply told him that I was doing this. With or without him. So he could either come with me or not, but I was seeing this through. He threatened to chain me up in his basement again, but eventually gave in.
So here we are. Me in a beautiful green silk dress and him in an impeccable black suit.
I steal a quick glance at him while he is busy watching the crowd. His black hair is styled perfectly, and his eyes gleam like emeralds in the glittering light. The suit, which looks like it has been made for him, accentuates his athletic body in a way that makes it difficult not to stare at him.
God, he really is breathtaking. He’s hot in a pair of jeans with his tattoos on full display and he’s hot in a fancy suit that covers them all up too. This man is simply too attractive for this world.
“You’re staring, sweetheart,” Tristan says, and I can hear the amusement and satisfaction in his voice.
I start in surprise and snap my gaze from his body and up to his face. There’s a devilish smile lurking on his lips. I huff out an amused breath.
“I thought I was being pretty discreet, actually,” I reply with a casual shrug.
He arches an eyebrow at me. “Discreet?”
“Yes.”
“I have spent every second since you walked out the door wearing that dress trying not to carve out the eyes of every man who looks at you. And now you’re looking at me in a way that makes me want to rip your dress off and fuck you against the nearest wall. How is that fair?”
A villainous grin spreads across my mouth as I rake a deliberate glance up and down his body. “Who said I was playing fair?”
His eyes gleam as he takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You devious little thing.”
I flick another glance down his body and lick my lips.
Lust burns in his eyes, and he tightens his grip on my chin. “Unless you want me to fuck you right here, which would result in me having to blind everyone in here afterwards, I would really suggest you stop doing that.”
I laugh and wiggle my eyebrows at him.
He shakes his head, but then releases my chin .
“Bloody menace,” he mutters, amusement in his voice, as he holds out an arm to me.
I take it and let him lead me farther into the room.
Getting an invitation to this charity ball was very easy since it is hosted by the mayor of Bercester, and I just so happens to be another mayor’s daughter. The difficult part starts now. Actually selling drugs to a crowd of rich elites without getting caught by those who frown upon the practice.
But Tristan says that there is a silent language used between those who are selling and those who are buying in situations like these. A kind of sign language that only the people who know what to look for will notice.
I guess we’re about to find out.
My heart patters nervously in my chest as we make our way along the edge of the dance floor. I expect Tristan to continue along the length of the room, but to my surprise, he turns and moves us onto the dance floor instead.
Stunned, I blink up at him as he spins me around so that I’m facing him.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Dancing.” He places one hand on my waist. “It’s the most natural way to continuously move around the room.”
“Do you even know how to dance?”
He draws his eyebrows down and gives me a pointed look. “I can fight off three people at the same time and have a working knowledge of several different types of martial arts. How hard could dancing possibly be?”
Then he moves us into the dance.
And, to Tristan’s complete surprise, it turns out that dancing and fighting are two entirely separate skills.
I suppress another smile as he yet again struggles to keep up with the steps and move in tune with the music .
“I saw that,” he grumbles.
“Saw what?” I reply innocently as we move across the dance floor.
“That little grin.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” He shoots me a look that says that he doesn’t believe that for a second. Then a sigh filled with grudging amusement escapes his lips. Sweeping his gaze over the dancing couples around us, he adjusts his grip on me and adds, “Just start doing those gestures I showed you.”
I nod.
While we continue dancing as if we’re a normal couple, I discreetly make certain gestures with the hand that I have resting on Tristan’s shoulder.
Nothing happens.
I’m not sure why I expected the whole room to burst into a frenzy as soon as I made those gestures, but seeing as this is my first time as a drug dealer, I don’t really have a frame of reference for any of this.
We keep dancing.
And I continue making those discreet hand movements.
My heart beats nervously behind my ribs.
Tristan gives my waist a comforting squeeze, as if he could read the nervousness on my face. I give his shoulder a quick squeeze in reply, and then make an effort to relax my facial features.
This is no different from any other situation that I’ve had to fake my way through. As long as I keep a perfect mask on my face, no one will ever know that I’m here doing something illegal.
My heart leaps as a man in a burgundy suit suddenly makes a hand gesture back while he dances past with an attractive blonde woman.
“A guy answered,” I hiss to Tristan as a mix of alarm and excitement flashes through me.
“Memorize his face,” Tristan replies, sounding completely calm. “And give him a nod back so he knows that you saw it.”
I quickly memorize what he looks like. Then, with my eyes locked on his, I nod. He dips his chin in a shallow nod as well.
We continue dancing.
Several other people respond as well. My heart leaps every time.
God, I can’t believe that I’m actually a drug dealer now.
My gaze slides up to Tristan.
I start in surprise when I find him watching me intently.
His eyes sear into mine, and he tightens his hand on my waist possessively.
“You really are incredible,” he says, sounding almost stunned.
My chest tightens. But in a good way, this time. As if my heart is so big that it can barely fit inside my ribcage. It’s painful. But it’s a sweet pain.
Drawing in a shuddering breath, I lick my lips.
Desperate desire flares up in Tristan’s eyes like dark flames, and he tightens his grip on my waist even more.
“What did I tell you about doing that?” he warns, his voice full of wicked promises. “Now I really will have to undress you against a wall and fuck you until the only thing left inside your head is my name.”
A thrill races down my spine.
I let out a hmm , as if considering something. “Maybe we should take a break from collecting orders and go to the annex to get the product. ”
“And why would we do that?”
“So that you won’t have to blind everyone in here.”
His brows crease as he watches me for a second. Then he realizes what I’m suggesting. A wicked grin spreads across his lips. “Excellent idea.”
Stepping away from the dance floor, we make our way back through the glittering marble ballroom and towards the doors.
Since we couldn’t very well bring an entire bag of drugs into the party itself, we had to sneak in and stash it in one of the annex buildings beforehand. That way, we can just discreetly get what we need, hand it off, take new orders, get some more product, and then do the same thing again.
The second advantage of going out to that annex to get them is that it’s secluded.
And for what I’m about to make Tristan do to me, we will certainly need it.