Chapter 4 #4
“It’s been... interesting so far,” I replied, smiling back, trying to appear cool, calm, and collected. But I noticed the way his focus shifted from my eyes to my lips when I spoke, and it made the flutters in my belly beat faster and more intensely. A feeling I had to admit, I kind of liked.
Ethan Moore, who was standing next to Lloyd, leaned forward, cutting between us and interrupted our conversation.
“I’m Ethan,” he said, reaching across the group to shake my hand and pull my attention away from Alex Kingston. “I’m sure Google can give you my resume if Lloyd hasn’t already filled you in.”
I gave a polite laugh in response. “It’s nice to meet you, Ethan.”
“And you are?”
“Emma. Emma Belmont.” I glanced around the circle, my cheeks burning as I met Alex Kingston’s penetrative gaze yet again. I don’t think I’d ever had such an intense first meeting with a man before.
Suddenly, Lloyd decided to regain control of the conversation.
“Emma is from the Merivale Echo. She’s a reporter.”
Tobey’s eyes went wide, and he gave a low chuckle.
“You’re one of Gold’s minions? Wow.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I bet you have some stories to tell.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Lloyd cut in.
“Can you believe she came as his plus one, but as you know, he isn’t welcome at these events, especially after what happened the last time. So he was refused entry. Security threw him to the floor and Emma had to step up to the plate.”
Lloyd clearly liked to exaggerate. There was no throwing to the floor involved. And what a way to introduce me and make me feel extra small at the same time.
But what did happen at the last event?
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but I heard Alex Kingston scoff beside me, then snap, “I’m sure Miss Belmont is grateful you brought that up again. Did you film it for prosperity?” He was mocking Lloyd, and I had to admit, I liked that he spoke up for me. I didn’t need it, but it was nice.
Lloyd kept his fake smile firmly plastered on his face. “I’m merely pointing out that Emma is here doing God’s work, so to speak,” he stated, continuing to dig a hole for himself.
“Then maybe show a bit of respect and let her speak for herself,” Alex snapped.
Lloyd went to reply, his mouth flapping open and closed as he tried to respond, despite being speechless, but I jumped in.
“That was quite an introduction. Thank you, Lloyd. And thank you for having me here tonight. I’m honoured to be here.”
“And we’re honoured to have you here,” Alex replied, turning his body to face me, holding his hand out for me to shake. “I’m Alex,” he said, his voice deep like smooth, rich velvet that I would happily drown in.
I peered down at his outstretched hand before taking it in mine and whispering, “Emma.”
His hand felt warm and soft, and I shook it gently, as he stared at me.
Then I felt him brush his finger gently over the back of my hand, such a small gesture, and yet, it sparked bolts of electricity between us.
Sparks I hoped he felt too. Perhaps he did.
I couldn’t fail to notice how his mouth fell open slightly.
I think I held his hand for a little longer than I should’ve, or maybe he held mine for too long, I don’t know. But neither one of us made the effort to break away, until Tobey whispered jovially, “All right you two, get a room.” And I pulled my hand away, feeling embarrassed.
“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Falstead,” Alex joked. But as the group laughed, I could see Alex’s chest rise and fall as he breathed deeply, glancing down at where my hand had touched his.
Fireworks.
That’s what it felt like, standing in this room with this magnetic man so close.
When his eyes were on me it was like he was seeing something he couldn’t quite believe.
Or that’s how it felt to me, anyway. And being near him made my spine tingle.
He gave me butterflies. Was this what lust at first sight felt like?
I’d never experienced it before. Apart from in the romance novels I read.
“You don’t have a drink,” Alex suddenly announced. “Let me rectify that.”
“I’m okay,” I replied. “I’m not drinking tonight.” But he’d already put his arm out, and instantly, a waiter appeared beside us with a tray of drinks.
“Another whisky, Sir?” the waiter asked.
“Yes, please,” Alex replied, “And whatever the lady is having.”
“Champagne is fine, thank you,” I said, and went to reach for a glass, as the waiter offered his tray to me.
The waiter nodded and walked away, and I sipped the fizzy champagne, noting that the crisp bubbles on my tongue went down very nicely. I’d have to be careful tonight. One champagne could easily turn into four or five. Or eight.
“Would you like some food?” Alex asked, but I shook my head.
“I ate before I came here,” I lied, taking another sip and already feeling the effect of the alcohol on my empty stomach. This was going to go straight to my head.
“So, you’re a reporter.” Alex tilted his head, giving me his full attention, and the rest of the room fell away as we spoke to one another. “That must be fascinating. I admire anyone that can write. It must be so rewarding, telling the stories of people’s lives.”
“It has its moments.”
He narrowed his eyes, and his head shook slightly as he asked, “Have we met before?”
‘I think I’d remember you,’ I thought, but replied, “I don’t think so.”
He frowned, rubbing his stubbled jaw as he said, “I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I know you.”
“Maybe I have a memorable face.” I shrugged.
He paused, then uttered, “Very memorable.”
And my already hot cheeks burned fiercer as I tried not to react, and took another sip of my champagne to mask how shy he made me feel.
“Are you an art collector?” he asked, waiting avidly to hear my response.
His eye contact was insane, and the way he focused on me, like I was the most important person in this room, made me forget that I was ever awkward or apprehensive to be around these people.
Alex Kingston had a way of putting me at ease and making me feel like I belonged there.
He was easy to talk to and comfortable to be around.
He had a magnetic aura. They all did. But he was on another level.
“I’m an art lover, but not a collector.” I gestured to a set of abstract portraits on the wall behind us. “The pieces here are a little out of my price range. But I hear you’re a collector, Mr. Kingston.”
“Alex,” he replied, his expression kind and endearing. “Please call me Alex. And yes, I am.” He smiled, and it made my insides twirl.
“Are there any pieces here that you’ll be adding to your private collection?” I smiled back, interested to hear what he’d say. Wondering what his home looked like and what type of art he collected. What was hung on his walls? What did his bedroom look like? Jeez, I was getting ahead of myself.
“Which piece is your favourite, Miss Belmont?” he asked, throwing the question right back at me.
“It’s Emma,” I said, my voice coming out all breathy, like I was a damn schoolgirl speaking to her first crush.