He pulled me closer to him, cradling my body as tight to his as he could. A low wail left his lips. He buried his mouth against my shoulder, the sound muffled but not gone. We clung to each other, the waves crashing, but slowly residing. We didn’t speak as we lay there. But we didn’t separate. Our hands began to explore again, bringing one another back to that peak. And then we rode the waves again, eventually falling asleep curled in each other’s arms.
I was alone when I woke the next morning. But there was a rose on my bedside table.
Chapter 15
Every year, around the Thanksgiving holidays, the Waco Chamber of Commerce has a huge gala to raise money for multiple local charities. Not only is it all for a good cause, but it’s one of those social events in which only the elite of the elite are invited. Everyone on the outside watches with eagle eyes, admiring and criticizing—all at the same time—the amazing ball gowns, the tailored tuxedos, and the couples wearing them. I can remember hearing my aunts talk about it when I was still too young to care much about that sort of thing. And I remember pouring over the newspaper articles about the gala with Lisa.
Lisa always dreamed of going. She even knew what she was going to wear, down to the purse she would carry. I was a supportive friend, always reassuring her that she would, indeed, go one day. But I was never all that interested. That is until Joan called me one afternoon and asked if I wanted her to help me chose a dress for this year’s affair.
Miles had kept his distance since that night. He told me he was swamped with work and, from the number of hours he was working, it seemed like there was some honesty laced through his lies. However, I knew he was avoiding me for other reasons. And maybe that was a good thing. If he’d continued to spend time with me, I might have begun to think he shared the feelings I was struggling with.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him. And it wasn’t just because sex with him had been incredible. And not just because I still wanted to help him deal with his grief. There was more…so much more. I knew I was falling in love with him, but this was bigger than that. This felt almost like obsession. And I was embarrassed by it.
I was becoming a walking, talking, romance-novel heroine—and I hated it.
I tried to keep myself busy. I read a lot. Checked in with my aunts’ new caretaker more often than was necessary. Shopped more than I ever had before. I even took a few free college courses over the internet just to have something to do. But, no matter what I did, my thoughts kept moving back to Miles.
I found myself waiting up for him at night just to catch a glance of him as he came, exhausted, up the stairs. And then I set my alarm so that I could see him before he snuck out early in the mornings. I’d even dropped by his office once or twice, hoping to catch him there. Unfortunately, he spent so much time on site at his construction projects that I’d missed him. Yet, I’d tried—and that was humiliating enough. I felt like a pre-teen with an unwanted crush on the quarterback.
Lisa was beyond thrilled when I called and asked her to shop for a dress with me. I wanted something that would make it impossible for Miles to take his eyes off of me, and I knew Lisa would be the one who could help me do that. We spent three days walking through the most exclusive stores in Waco, Dallas, and Fort Worth. Lisa tried to talk me into skimpy little pieces of fluff, dresses that barely covered my ass, let alone anything else. I had to keep reminding her this was a respectable event, so the perfect dress would need to be both sexy and classy. I was beginning to worry that she couldn’t grasp what it was I wanted until we wandered into this little hole in the wall shop in Denton.
It was the last thing Lisa held up as we searched the racks, a tiny slip of a black dress that I started to dismiss without really looking at it. But then she held it against her body and I began to see the subtlety that made it perfect.
It was floor length, a lovely asymmetrical dress with multiple layers in the skirt that made it look like the petals of a flower just beginning to bloom. The top was a sweetheart with a low back, showing so much skin that I briefly worried about comfort. But it was so beautiful, and it made my curvy figure look like it was made for just this kind of dress. I couldn’t believe how perfectly it fit. I couldn’t have found a better dress if I’d had one custom made. And Lisa found this lovely shawl that went perfectly with it. The only thing missing was a piece of jewelry that would be a showcase around my neck. But I knew my aunts had some old, family jewelry at the house that might include the perfect piece.
Lisa was so excited that I was going to the gala that she insisted on paying for a spa day for the two of us the day of the event. That was the first time I really began to feel that I might find a place in this lifestyle my marriage had shoved me into. It was perfectly luxurious to have some stranger offer a massage while another stranger slathered mud all over my face. My skin was so soft afterward that I nearly bought every skin product they offered.
“He’s going to fall over when he sees you,” Lisa said later that night as she helped me do my makeup. “You might not get out of the house.”
“I will, actually. Joan called just a bit ago and said he’s running late and asked that I met him there.”
“That sucks,” Lisa groaned. “You’ll have to walk in alone, and that’s when most people get to show off the most, walking up that fake red carpet.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t really interested in getting my picture in the newspaper.
“Maybe next year we’ll all go together,” Lisa said a moment later, her voice a little wispy. “I’ve been talking to Colin Parsons off and on.”
“Have you?”
“He’s been busy with work and everything, but he said he would like to take me out if he can ever get back to Texas.”
“The two of you must have really hit it off at the wedding.”
“I didn’t think so at first.” Lisa stood back a little, assessing my eye shadow. Then she moved forward, pressing her brush to my eye again. “But then he started texting me like a month ago.”
“Just be careful, Lisa. He’s an actor. And if he’s anything like Miles…”
“Things are going well between you and Miles, aren’t they?”
It depends on your definition of well.
“They’re fine,” I said, even as I found myself wondering if I was lying, or just deluding myself.
“He adores you,” Lisa said softly. “I almost cried at your wedding when you froze up and he went over there to bring you down the aisle. That was probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely. I hope the guy I marry would be inclined to act that way. But I’ll probably end up marrying the kind of man who’d just get pissed and storm off.”
“I doubt it. If he loves you enough to ask you to marry him, he’ll already know he has to be extremely patient with you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Lisa grunted, but she was smiling when I opened my eyes. “But, seriously, I can’t tell you how happy I am for you, Riley. I kind of knew you’d be the first to get married between the two of us. But I’m thrilled you find a good guy like Miles.”
“I never believed myself I’d get a guy like him,” I admitted. But, again, I still wasn’t sure he was really mine.
My phone buzzed, the new smartphone Miles got for me when we were first married. A text informed me that the limo Joan had arranged was here.
“Time to go.”
I stood and brushed my hands over my skirt, straightening it around my hips. Lisa took my arms and led me over to the full length mirror.
“His eyes are going to pop out of his head when he sees you.”
I stared at my reflection, shocked at how amazing I really did look. I’m not a self-centered person—far from it—but even I couldn’t find a flaw with what I saw. The dress flowed perfectly over my body, showing off the good things and hiding the bad. Lisa pinned my hair up in a fancy French knot that framed my face just right, making my normally nondescript eyes pop. And the makeup
was so well done that it might have been done by a professional.
“Lisa, you are a miracle worker.”
“It’s easy when I have such a palette to work with.”
Tears burst into my eyes and I turned to hug her. “I wish you were coming.”
“Next year.”
She pushed me back and pressed a tissue to the bottom of my eye to keep the tears from spilling. “Don’t mess up all my hard work now.” She touched my chin lightly. “Remember every detail so you can tell me about it tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“And have a good time.”
I nodded, but as I rode in the back of the limo all by myself, I knew that a lot of what happened tonight would depend on Miles. We hadn’t been out in public together since his mother died. There hadn’t been any dinner parties, no meetings with clients that required socializing. I wasn’t sure if that was because he was still catching up from the time we’d been away, or if he’d just chosen not to include me. So this would be our first appearance in a month.
I was as nervous as though it was our first.
We reached the hotel where the party was being held in just a few minutes, but the line of cars waiting to unload their passengers was impossibly long. I think we sat there for half an hour. I wanted to text Miles, to find out if he was already waiting inside for me, or if I’d have to mingle alone for a period of time. I’d never done that before and the prospect made me glad I chose not to eat before getting dressed this evening.
When the car finally pulled up to the red carpet, I could see the crowd of reporters gathered along the edges. It was almost like a Hollywood premiere, just on a much smaller scale. This was Waco’s claim to fame, outside of our pretty awesome college football team. News outlets from all over Texas were here to cover the event. However, they looked bored at the moment. I was pretty confident they would remain that way as I climbed out of the car.
I was wrong.
“Over here, Mrs. Thorn.”
“Could you turn this way, Mrs. Thorn?”
“Why didn’t you and Miles come together, Mrs. Thorn?”
“Is there trouble in paradise?”
“How is Miles holding up after the death of his mother?”
The questions came at me from every direction. I didn’t know which way to focus, so I just kept my eyes on the entrance to the hotel and tried not to trip over my own toes. I kept a smile plastered to my face because that’s what Joan had told me to do before the first event the three of us attended together, but it was much harder than it looked. And when they asked about Miles, it was even harder.
Just as I reached the main doors and a bellboy gestured for me to follow him, a reporter snuck up behind me.
“Could you tell me about your husband’s connection to the Donaldson family?”
I made the mistake of making eye contact. I glanced back at the woman—a gorgeous brunette with perfect skin—my smile faltering.
“Who?”
“The Donaldson family of New York. Do you know what his connection is to them? Or why his father made a million dollar payment to them late last year? Or why members of the Donaldson family have been seen lurking around your husband’s construction sites?”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
Donaldsons? Seemed like a perfectly innocuous name. And what did it matter what Jackson Thorn did? How was that connected to Miles? And so what if he hired some members of that family to work at his construction sites? His company hired all kinds of people, and Miles didn’t always have anything to do with it. Why was all of this news worthy?
I turned away without acknowledging any of her questions and followed the bellboy into the hotel lobby. Dozens of people were milling around, greeting one another before going into the actual ballroom. There were too many people for me to take in, let alone spot Miles’ familiar face among the dozens of unfamiliar ones.
“Can I take this?” a man asked, touching the corner of my shawl.
I nodded, releasing my chokehold on it as he carefully slipped it away. I brushed my hands over the front of my dress, tugging a little to make sure it fell just the way it was supposed to. When I looked up, I felt eyes on me. And there were, more than I would have anticipated. Men watching with something like admiration, women watching with a mixture of envy and jealousy. I’ve always been the girl who fades away into the background, the quintessential wallflower. Yet, tonight, I was as far from that mousy girl than I’d ever imagined possible.
A blush burned my cheeks as I froze, suddenly unsure why I was there, let alone what I should do next. Panic rose in my chest, that kind of panic that comes when you know you’re about to make a fool of yourself, but you don’t know what to do to stop it. But, just like the last time I felt such panic, Miles suddenly stepped out of the crowd and held his hand out to me.
“You look…” His voice was deep, rough, almost. His eyes moved over the length of me, pausing here and there before coming back up to my eyes. “You’re beautiful.”
I started to bite my lip, but caught myself. I moved closer to him and whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”
“You let me escort you inside and allow everyone to admire just how beautiful you really are.”
I blushed, more because of the honesty in his eyes than the words his spoke. Then he kissed my temple and my panic just washed away. I had this sudden sense that as long as Miles was at my side, I could face anything. And that was more dangerous than falling in love with the man.
Chapter 16
The party was everything Lisa and I had always imagined it would be. Names I’d seen in print all my life were suddenly human beings eating quiches and drinking champagne right next to me. Entrepreneurs, state senators, the governor, federal senators…people whose names were almost myth-like to an ordinary, Starbuck’s barista like me.
We mingled until Miles felt we’d done it long enough, and then he led the way out to the dance floor, and we moved seamlessly into each other’s arms. He hadn’t touched me since that night. But it felt like no time had passed. His hand was warm on my bare back, my hip. He pulled me closer to him, tugging my body closer to his than was required to move in time with the music. I looked up at him and caught him watching me, his eyes hooded in that way I was beginning to relate to his level of desire. The idea that I was the thing he desired was enough to send my heart pounding like a hammer on steel.
I bit my lip, my habit stronger than my promise to Lisa that I wouldn’t chew my lipstick off. Miles touched my chin, tugging at my lip until he pulled it free. And then he bit it, nibbling it gently.
“Mine,” he whispered.
And I was. I was completely gone. I was his in any and every way he wanted me to be.
We danced for only a few minutes, but long enough to make it impossible for me to concentrate the rest of the evening. It changed everything. The meaning behind his touches, the accidental brush of his breath on my neck, the words he spoke when he introduced me to acquaintances. I was in a cloud, my only thoughts focused on things that were entirely inappropriate given the circumstances. I don’t know how I kept a smile on my face without giving away the fact that I had no idea who I was talking to, let alone why it was so important that I do so. I might have made a complete fool of myself for all I was aware.
The evening slowly wound down. Miles helped me into my shawl again, and we left side by side, dodging the reporters as we climbed into the limo. I curled up on the long seat, exhaustion suddenly washing over me. My cellphone buzzed, and I pulled it out to find a text from Lisa. Well, many texts from Lisa, actually. She wanted to know how it was going, who I met, and when I was going to tell her everything. I smiled as I sent her a quick response, promising to call her in the morning.
“Problems?”
I looked up. Miles was watching me. Again.
“Just Lisa.”
“She must be burning up with jealousy.”
“Sort of.”
He slid closer to me ac
ross the seat. “The two of you are such opposites.”
“You know what I thought when I first figured out who you were?”
His eyebrows rose. “What?”
“That she was more your type than I would ever be.”
“She was, but I think my type has shifted a little.”
“To what?”
He touched my jaw lightly. “To beautiful women who put up with my crap and still show up to these stupid events outshining every woman in the room.”
He kissed me, his lips impossibly soft as they brushed mine. A tease. Then they became hard, rough, as he devoured me with a hunger that felt like it had been building for a very long time. I responded quite unchastely, pulling him to me with a fire I couldn’t have hidden if I had wanted to. I was more like Lisa in that moment, losing every inhibition I might have harbored, responding to him with a driving need that was new, even to me. No one else had ever made me feel so wanton, or made me throw caution to the wind and forget about all the things my aunts had taught me about relations between men and women.
Miles’ touch woke something in me that no other man had ever done.
We kissed, our hands slipping into places that must have given the chauffeur quite a show. And when we reached the house, Miles swept me up into his arms and carried me into his bedroom for the first time, setting me in the center of the bed where he slept every night. And his hands, his lips, his tongue, did things to me that did more than awaken a long buried desire. It confirmed what I’d wanted to believe, but wouldn’t allow myself. It made me believe that he returned the feelings I’d been harboring for him. No man could be that gentle, that caring, and not have feelings.
It wasn’t just that night. It was many nights over the next few weeks. He began coming home early from work, barely sitting through a meal before dragging me up the stairs to teach me more about my body, about his, about the things that made us both lose our minds. It became an addiction, this need we had for each other. But it wasn’t just physical. When we weren’t together, he would send me texts, he would talk to me about everything from business to politics to the weather. Any excuse to reach out. It got to the point where we were texting each other dozens of times a day.
LUCIEN: A Standalone Romance Page 70
