by TN King
He helped her down to the marble flooring, pulling her in close and leaning into her. “Ellie,” he whispered warmly, “look around.” he finished, his thumb brushing the backs of her knuckles.
She blinked, slowly moving her eyes around the lobby and taking in the now silenced space and the still awed expressions lining all of their features. Then she looked again, her gaze shifting around the whole room.
She almost missed the uniformed men at the door bowing to her in sure reverence, their eyes understandably stuck on her. Her eyes roving back to them with astonishment. “Oh…” She gasped, slowly catching on to the fact that everyone’s eyes were stuck on her.
“Yes,” he acknowledged, just for her to hear. “They are transfixed by you,” he said, beaming at her as he explained it, his expression darkening only slightly as he stared at her. “As am I,” he admitted, his voice low and sure.
The doormen opened the doors, Morgan leaning in closer to her as they did so, taking that opportunity to roll himself against her. “It was worth every damn dime I spent,” he assured her, the desire cutting through the undercurrent of his words.
Her eyes widened, a giggle working up and out of her lips that she tried to cover with her free hand. He helped her out of the door and into the waiting limo, glancing back behind him one last time.
Back in the crowd that they had left behind them, men ogled, clearly jealous of Morgan for having her on his arm. Women glared, jealous of the dress and her sheer beauty in its entirety. The dress might have helped, maybe it highlighted her true beauty more elegantly than usual, but it was her that made the dress…not the other way around. He smiled proudly, following Ellie into the limo with heavy emotion filling his chest. He was luckier than he could possibly explain.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ellie
Ellie thought she might pass out as Miss Petra set her at the top of the stairs, wobbling on the heels that she’d been practicing walking in. It didn’t matter how much, or how convincingly, she argued taking the elevator over the stairs ‒ citing her clumsiness and her penchant for falling ‒ it all fell on deaf ears. Ears that had been overly attentive up until that point.
Miss Petra had answered every question, listened to every suggestion, and explained her every move to ease Ellie into it. Now though she stood firm, staring at Ellie in all of her nervous splendor with a fond, large smile as she shook her head. “You will make such an entrance,” Miss Petra assured her, leading her further towards the death-trap stairs. “You shall see. The man will probably faint.” She laughed elegantly, seemingly pleased with her handiwork, admiring it all over again, even as she straightened the bodice on Ellie one last time.
Ellie didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile. This was insane. She was supposed to make a grand entrance like she was some character in a movie? No, that didn’t fit. She wasn’t nearly pretty enough for all of that, not even with her all decked out in diamonds like she was. More than she had even been expecting originally. Oh! No. Don’t even think about that. She fought, pushing down the panic that came with it. She couldn’t go there, she was already too tempted to turn back around and go hide in her room. The earrings dangling from her earlobes had been the biggest battle between her and the Fashion Consultant. The one area the woman refused to budge in before the stairs. Hell, they were worth at least 50,000 dollars! Blue diamonds… but Miss Petra had insisted that they matched the dress and her eyes, therefore they were necessary.
A loaner, she had called it, trying to make Ellie more comfortable with it. She had just said she was surprised over not also having to battle her on the shoes. They were—something else. Spectacular, to put it weakly. She still couldn’t believe that Morgan had chosen them for her, not that she could believe much of anything about this actually. Like some sort of fantastical dream.
A fantastical dream that just continued, like a dream sequence of walking down the stairs to the reception she got ‒ the room going eerily quiet until all she could hear were her heels against the steps. That opulent lobby had hidden no face from her, all upturned to watch her descent. She had nearly tripped, finally catching sight of Morgan and her whole body shivering. He stared at her like he was about to devour her, like she was the only thing that his eyes had room to take in. He stared at her in a way that made her feel like maybe it really wasn’t the dress garnering all of the attention, like maybe it was her as well.
She shivered all over again. It’d been an experience unlike any other, and one that had certainly bolstered her up for the entrance into the ball. At least she hoped. She still felt like a phony. Like at any moment, some stranger was going to rush up to her and tell her that she didn’t belong in that dress ‒ with this man ‒ or in his life. Panic ate away at her, little by little, piece by piece, intruding on her fantasy world and twisting it up within her belly.
“Ellie?” Morgan questioned, speaking in her ear again.
Gooseflesh rose up along her arms, filling out atop her flesh and spreading along her skin. Wow, she breathed out, exhaling slowly as she allowed her eyes to run over him. Just look at this man! He looked… she didn’t even have the words for it. Devastatingly handsome? He looked like one of those models that graced magazine covers, and yet here he was on a date with her! She wished he would quit with the sexy whispering though, she didn’t know how her soaking through her panties was going to work when wearing this dress. And she didn’t think that it was even kind of helping her nerves in the slightest. “Yes, Morgan?” she finally asked, finding her voice out of the back of her throat.
He smiled, gesturing at her and where she was seated inside of the limo. Right where he was supposed to have been sitting, she hadn’t moved over at all.
“Oh!” she gasped, heat filling her face. She’d been so busy daydreaming and ogling him that she hadn’t moved over when she ought to have. She’d just been sitting here like a dummy. She huffed in embarrassment, sliding along the seat and carefully pulling the skirt of her dress with her so it wouldn’t snag. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, trying to ignore it herself as she got into the right seat.
Morgan chuckled, folding himself down to fit into the limo next to her, the vehicle pulling off the moment the door closed behind him.
Her stomach lurched, anticipation and nerves building back up again, and like he could sense it, he reached out for her hand. His fingers wrapped gently around hers, tangling with them.
Ellie stared down at his hand in confusion. It felt… damp? She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing in question. He looked like a dream, of course, in his tux and with his hair done all nice. Damn, a veritable god wearing a tux… it had nearly made her knees give out when he had come forward to greet her on those stairs. Followed shortly thereafter by wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Why would he choose a poor girl from the slums over his own kind? She knew the dress made her look good, it would make a sack of garbage shine, but no matter what, she was still Ellie… the waitress at The Liberty Bell diner. No amount of makeup, fancy clothing, and fancy jewelry could change that.
Morgan snorted, a kind of embarrassed chuckle leaving him as he unwound his fingers from hers, shaking his head as he wiped his hand on the seat to the other side of him.
Ellie couldn’t help lifting her eyebrows, swallowing in worry.
“God dammit,” he cursed, shaking his head again with another shamefaced chuckle. “I’m sweating,” he told her, sounding confused even to her. “Even my palms are sweating sweetness. I apologize for that, Ellie,” he whispered. “I didn’t know it was going to happen. I really didn’t expect anything of the sort.”
She scrunched her brows at him, her confusion mounting further. Didn’t expect what? Why was he sweating? Had she done something wrong? “What?” she asked, looking for clarification and explanation both in his steel gaze.
He smiled, his expression softening as he looked back up to her once more. “You made Morgan Hunt break out into a cold sweat,” he explained, his voice low.
&
nbsp; Her eyes rounded, disbelief setting in. She hadn’t—he couldn’t mean...
He nodded, as if following her train of thought and dismissing her disbelief. “You just do not know how absolutely perfect you are,” he said seriously, leaning in towards her with fire racing through his gaze. He looked like he was going to eat her up, right then and there. “You actually burn me up, Ellie White,” he finished, face only a hair’s breadth from her own.
She could feel his hot breath on her face, taste the mint of his mouthwash, her lips falling open, full prepared to taste it for real on her lips—
“We are here sir,” the driver said through the speaker, jolting through the both of them until they broke back apart, the both of them breathing heavier.
Ellie’s stomach tightened again, a little bead of sweat working its way down the back of her neck to her horror. “Dammit,” she whispered, the shake to her hands building back up. She didn’t know how to do this—the stairs at the hotel had been one thing, this was going to be something else entirely. This would make or break their social life for the rest of their relationship. She had to be able to move in his world, just as he needed to be able to move in hers.
Morgan chuckled again, the duskiness receding from his tone. “You have nothing to worry about,” he promised her, his hand pausing on the door of the limo, as he looked up then cursing under his breath as he stared out of the window.
Outside, a man stood at the huge glass doors, grinning in the direction of their limo as they pulled to a complete stop.
“But maybe I do,” he said under his breath, sounding unhappy.
Leaning forward to see past him, Ellie followed his gaze, looking at the man standing by the glass doors. He was tall, well built, and dressed to a T, just like she was sure every other man in there would be. She blinked, trying to find out what it was about this man that worried Morgan, but she could see nothing obvious. “Oh,” she said dazedly, trying to stare even harder at the stranger. Maybe he was a business partner? A competitor? Family? Someone he hadn’t even been expecting to see here? It wasn’t like he had given her a whole lot of personal information about his life to go off of here.
Morgan bristled, his lip curling in a definitively edged sneer. “Oh?” he asked, repeating her word with a hard bite to it.
Not family then. Or maybe just family he wasn’t on good terms with.
Oh, he was so hard to read when he was like this. Ellie turned to face him, her features open and curious. Maybe she was just assuming too much, maybe he meant the doors or his own nerves, and not the man at all. “Is that a doorman as well?” she asked, surprised they would only have one with that many glass doors there. She wondered if he was just there to make sure, only the invitees showed up and not be an interloper like her.
Morgan halted, the sneer falling off of his features as he stared at her. As if astounded by her question. He snorted first, a derisive, dismissive sound. And then again, laughter erupted from him. Within seconds, he was nearly rolling with his laughter, his huge chest shaking beneath the tuxedo he was clothed in as he roared his amusement.
She startled slightly, gasping and jumping a bit at the sudden, unexpected noise. It was a fair question. How was she supposed to know these things? She’d already more than proven that she didn’t exist easily in his world without his help. She needed him to guide her, not make fun of her.
Before she could become too perturbed over it, he grabbed her face in his hands, gently tilting it up to meet his still overly amused expression. “You think he’s the door—” he cut himself off with another chuckle, shaking his head and then his expression sobering. “Do you think he’s attractive?” he asked very seriously, his gray eyes boring into her blue ones.
Attractive? She startled again, it was such a strange question. She thought plenty of people were attractive, she fully expected ninety percent of the people inside of that gala to be, if not more. But he was asking her very seriously, leading her to assume that she should answer as honestly as possible. Honesty, they had agreed, she reminded herself. She blinked up at him for a moment and then shrugged.
Was he attractive? She leaned around Morgan again, looking to the man by the glass doors and evaluating him as professionally as possible. The man was certainly handsome. He was tall, well built, and had the same air of sturdy confidence that Morgan wore around him like a second skin. He was ruggedly good looking, a little more rogue on the fly looking than Morgan, and even from this distance, she could see that this man too had startling, unusual eyes. His weren’t the gray that she preferred though. He didn’t have any redeeming features beyond this that she could see, none that caught her eye anyways. Not with Morgan on her arm. “He’s…” she trailed off with a shrug. “Okay, I guess?” she said slowly, rotating her gaze back to Morgan.
Morgan stilled, his frame going entirely frozen with what she assumed was tension. “Okay?” he questioned further, prompting her for further answer.
She nodded, her eyebrows scrunching up. “Why? Is he someone important?” she finally asked, not wording it quite the way she had meant to. Even if he was important, why did it matter if she found him attractive or not?
He didn’t answer any of her questions, his driver opening the door to the limo and Morgan grabbing her hand as he went to climb out of it. “Not anymore,” he said jovially, leaning in to help assist her out of the car.
Something that he always seemed to do, fancy gala or not. Tonight it just happened to dawn on her, making her feel protected and safe again. She smiled softly, calm suddenly descending upon her where there had been none before to notice. No nerves at all, as she looked up, the lights from the front of the building bathing Morgan in a soft glow. My angel man. She sighed softly, tightening her fingers around his own and swinging one leg out from between a flash of blue silk.
He pulled her the rest of the way out, tucking her hand up under his arm at the crook of his elbow.
It didn’t matter what happened now, or what anyone within that building thought. Even if some random person did come running up insisting that she didn’t belong in that dress or that she didn’t belong with Morgan, with him holding her like he was with the grin on his face, she felt like she could face it. Like she could face a whole castle siege with him by her side. Which is kind of what they were currently doing ‒ storming the castle. Only the castle was the ball, and their weapons were their confidence.
Ellie walked with Morgan, feeling like she was suddenly walking on clouds in the air. Something in Morgan’s eyes seemed to help buoy her, lift her up from that anxious fear that had been gripping her all day. They were doing this. He was doing this, sharing this with her…
He led her up to the doors, the man standing next to them staring at her the whole way. His emerald gaze was disconcerting, like it could see straight through her, and not in the physical sense. Like he was picking apart her brain just by looking at her. She almost shivered, but Morgan’s arm steadied her.
Who is this man? Why is he staring at me like this? Oh God, is he Morgan’s brother or something? Did Morgan even have a brother? Jesus, how did she not know those sorts of things? Damn. She hadn’t considered any of that tonight, he worked for his family after all ‒ Hunt Industries was a family business, he had told her as much the night they had spent talking about themselves. He’d mentioned his mother, his father, even his deceased grandfather, but he had said absolutely nothing about any siblings...
Morgan stopped at the doors, his grin growing all the larger, seeming to turn it into a smirk. Like a large, Cheshire cat smile, he looked to the man by the doors. “Be a good man and open the doors will ya?” he asked, his tone amused over something that Ellie couldn’t quite follow.
He spoke familiarly though, more so than he usually spoke to those being paid to assist him, as if he knew the man whose smile was slowly sliding off of his features.
The man blinked, looking from Ellie to Morgan and back again, and opened his mouth as if to speak. It was only at the las
t minute that he seemed to think better of it, his mouth closing again as he shook his head slightly. Without saying anything, he gave a sweeping, but rather sarcastic bow, opening the doors with a look passing between he and Morgan that Ellie couldn’t decipher.
She didn’t know what to think, Morgan leading her through the doors with an ever broadening smile. He seemed to acquire more bounce to his step too, the man at the door watching the both of them with a curling smile. A smile that turned into a laugh, snorting out of the man’s nose and almost making Ellie jump all over again. Her eyebrows rose, turning her head back to look at him near bent over double at the doors. “What an odd doorman,” she muttered, not realizing until it was too late that her voice would carry in the empty room they were passing into. Her eyes widened, embarrassment coursing through her as the man stared back at her.
His laughter slowed into nothing, a stunned expression crossing his features, and Ellie instantly felt guilty, her cheeks pinkening.
Morgan seemed to take it in even greater stride though, his laugh rising louder in the entryway, leaning in to kiss her cheek and allowing the actual doorman, situated just inside next to a closet, to check his coat while waving his hand to indicate that Ellie, herself, didn’t have one. “Dammit, you are perfect,” he murmured, right next to her ear again, his lips brushing the shell of her ear gently.
“Was he a doorman?” Ellie whispered back as the second set of doors was opened for them, the clear difference between the man at the entrance and these men’s uniforms catching up to her.
Morgan didn’t answer though, he just grinned wider with another chuckle, his head held high as he led her into his world—and the sea of finery that awaited them beyond those doors.
Morgan
Men and women alike turned their heads to stare at them, people he knew and strangers. But it wasn’t him who drew their gazes, though he might have been a secondary reason. The both of them were two of the finest dressed here, and on top of it, the woman on his arm commanded everyone’s attention.
