His mouth roamed down the column of my neck, and when he sucked on my pulse-point, it felt like it was directly between my legs. It made it impossible to think about what he could be sorry for. Surely it wasn’t for what he was doing this very second, because it was the only thing that felt right.
“Hmm?” That was the best I could manage to ask for clarification. My hands were inside his suit coat, my fingers stroking over his dress shirt and wanting to get at the hardened chest beneath. It was exciting how he seemed to be having as difficult of a time breathing as I was.
“I’ve been avoiding you.” He carved a path with his mouth down my neck, across the center of my throat, and back up the other side. “You told me everything, and I didn’t do the same, and it wasn’t fair. It didn’t feel right.”
I pulled back. “And it does now?”
His eyes were lidded, and he looked vulnerable, but I wasn’t deceived. He was more dangerous than ever like this. “No, but it will. I’m going to make it right.” A smile hinted. “But also, I’m an impatient motherfucker. I’ve been waiting for this day for . . . a while.”
The way he’d said it, you’d think he’d been waiting years.
Perhaps he had been. Maybe tomorrow I’d read in the finance section of the news that he’d tendered his offer to buy Ascension. The question was on the tip of my tongue, but then he was there, his mouth pressed to mine again, and all the words fell away.
He eased me back against the mirror in the dressing room, and I gasped as my bare skin pressed to the cold glass. It was immediately followed with a heavy moan because the rest of him pushed against me, all hot and urgent.
A female voice carried loudly through the closed door. “You’re not damaging all my hard work, are you, Mr. Hale?”
We both froze at Donna’s question. A wild, guilty smile splashed on Royce’s face, and—fuck—it was so sexy, it was indecent.
“No, ma’am.” He straightened away, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His gaze assessed every inch of me, and I could see him weighing his options. He could have me right here and now, if I was willing. Which—oh, yes—I was.
His money meant he could do whatever he wanted. Pay off the staff in the shop to leave us. Tear this dress off me and hire whoever Donna would need to make a replacement in time. Everyone in Cape Hill, and especially the Hales, viewed wealth as a superpower. It could do anything.
But fucking his fiancée in a tiny dressing room while his stepmother and her dress designer waited outside would certainly get back to Macalister, and the distance Royce put between us cooled our raging bodies enough to see reason.
He raked a hand through his hair and settled the mess I’d created, pulling himself back together. He took a final look at me, all wanton with my kiss-swollen lips and wrapped in his favorite color, and his eyes smoldered. They made a promise he was going to deliver on very soon.
“I should get out of here,” a smirk broke on his lips, “while I still can.” He strode to the door and pulled it open but hesitated before going through it. “Come find me tonight after your game.”
He vanished through the door, and a moment later Donna appeared, gazing into the dressing room to survey the aftermath. She scoured the dress with her sharp eyes, and when she discovered it was unharmed, relief softened her expression.
I hadn’t finished recovering, so my voice was shaky. “Do you do wedding dresses?”
The woman’s laugh was bright and full. “For you? I’d be honored.”
With practice every night, I’d become quite good at chess.
The unfortunate thing was Macalister benefited from the practice as well and was also improving. Playing the same person repeatedly taught him my thought process and my weaknesses, and he used all of it to his advantage.
Tonight, I’d gotten closer than ever to beating him. The game had taken forever, and I’d put him in check more than once, but then he’d castled his king, and the repositioning move obliterated all my plans.
“You’re a worthy opponent, Marist,” he said as he took my king.
I mumbled a thank you and a goodbye before scurrying back to my room, anxious to put on some lipstick and go find Royce. It was a Friday night. Would we go out and make appearances? Or would he carry me off to a place where we could be alone?
There was a black box waiting on my bed, and my heart slammed to a stop before it crashed to the floor. It was roughly the same size as a shoebox, and I approached it with fear until I discovered the handwritten note beside it.
Open me.
I’d seen Royce’s scrawling handwriting enough times at the office to recognize it, and I let out a tight breath. My emotions swung wildly from dread to excited anticipation about what could be inside.
The fancy box was closed with a magnetic latch, and I slid my fingers beneath the lid, peeling back the hinged top. The white diamonds glinted and winked brilliantly in the light, set against the black velvet interior, and the beauty of it forced me to clasp a hand over my mouth.
And it grew more amazing the longer I stared at it.
From a distance, the masquerade mask just looked like glittery lace, but up close was where the finer details emerged. Delicate lines of diamonds curved and scrolled, each ending in a tiny head complete with emerald eyes. The half-mask was a beautiful tangle of slithering snakes.
I gingerly lifted it from the box, and another note dangled from the ribbon I’d use to hold the mask in place.
Leave this here and meet me where I proposed.
The girl who loved the movie Labyrinth swooned. Emotions surged through me in a frenetic mix of excitement and anticipation. What was going to happen when I found him? Was he going to tell me all his plans? Open up?
Would he show me our future?
The desire to put on lipstick was pushed aside—it’d only slow me down. And it would be wasted, anyway, because all I wanted to do was finish what we’d started in the dressing room this afternoon. I tucked the mask back in the box, placed it on the dresser beside my stack of mythology books, and darted out into the hallway.
Where I faceplanted into Macalister’s hard chest.
He gave a grunt of pain, dropped whatever he was holding, and his arms came up around me to stop my fall.
It wasn’t the first time he’d had me in his arms. We’d waltzed together the night of the initiation, but as we stared at each other now, I wasn’t sure which one of us was more uncomfortable.
“Macalister,” I gasped.
I was going to say more and tell him how he’d startled me, but the words died in my throat. Upon hearing me say his name, the glaciers in his eyes melted. His hands clamped down and urged me to stay.
“Are you all right?” He peered down at me like my answer was irrelevant. He’d judge for himself.
No, I wasn’t all right because he had his hands on my waist and it was unnecessary. I was steady now. “I’m fine.” I jerked out of his hold, and he didn’t bother to hide his dissatisfaction. I frowned. “What are you doing here?”
He bent, retrieved the item he’d dropped, and thrust the Greek mythology book toward me. “You seem to be in quite the hurry tonight. You left before I could return this.”
He was a voracious reader and had devoured almost all my books. I couldn’t tell if he genuinely liked the subject or if he only read them to get under my skin.