by Amelia Wilde
It’s damn hard, though, when I’m waiting on so many things. Waiting for rumors to surface, waiting for Ace to make up his mind, waiting for—
There’s a knock on the door that makes me jump. My heart thuds against my rib cage. Is he here? Did I summon him here just by the power of thought? If I open the door, is he going to kiss me? I want it. I want it so damn bad….
I yank the door open….
To reveal a man in a tuxedo, holding a large paper bag.
“Carolyn Banks?”
“Yes?”
“Delivery from Sasabune.”
Sasabune is a high-end sushi place I’ve been to a few times in the past year. “I didn’t order anything.”
The guy consults the receipt. “A gift order from a Mr. Kingsley.” He holds out the bag. “There’s a note inside.”
I take the bag, then step back into the entryway. “Hang on a second, and I’ll tip—”
“No need, Ms. Banks,” the man says, and before I can say another word, he disappears down the hall.
What the hell is Ace Kingsley doing now?
I can’t help but smile.
Chapter 16
Ace
The second Carolyn is off the elevator, I call Sasabune and insist on being connected to the head chef. It’s one of my favorite restaurants in the city, and they’ll do whatever it takes to keep me a happy customer—something I’m more than willing to take advantage of, especially in times like these.
Carolyn could have stepped into the hallway without another word, maybe with her middle finger raised, but she didn’t. She joked. She left the door open, just a fraction.
And maybe I’m fucking myself over. Maybe I’m going to end up with a heart bleeding with a thousand razor cuts, but my gut says that I should seize this opportunity. So I’m going to do more than put my foot in the doorway. I’m going to kick down the door.
The next call I place is to Noah.
“I have an order at Sasabune. Pick it up and deliver it to Carolyn Banks on the sixth floor.”
“You got it, boss.”
He makes no other comment.
I’m going to have to give him a raise.
My heart thuds against my rib cage while I make the walk from the elevator to my penthouse. If Noah performs up to his usual standards, he’ll be at Carolyn’s door inside half an hour. I don’t know how the hell he does it in New York traffic.
This is the perfect way to show her that she hasn’t gotten in the last word in on this, even if what she said to me on the way out of the elevator made heat flash through my chest.
It was also accurate.
She’s fucking incredible in bed. Almost frighteningly so. I thought Elisa was my soul mate, my perfect match, but even Elisa never reached Carolyn’s level.
The air in the room seems thin, now that I’m thinking of Elisa. Maybe she could have been on Carolyn’s level. Maybe we just didn’t have enough time. Maybe if I had—
No.
There’s no point in dwelling on what happened in Italy. Bad shit happens. The only thing I can do now is to move on. God knows her family never wants to see me again, even if ultimately it was their fault—
Stop.
I focus on the scene that’s about to play out a couple of floors below me. Noah will knock on the door. Will her heart race? Will she think it’s me? He might have to wait—she could be in the shower, soaping up that gorgeous body after a day at work, and then—
A text message comes into my phone.
Delivered.
I start to type back. How did she like it? Did she slam the door in your face?
Then I delete all of it. I’m not going to go there. Noah did his job. If he wants to tell me what Carolyn looked like when she opened the door, that’s up to him. I’m not going to harass him for details like I’m head over heels in love with her.
I’m not in love with her.
You could be.
It’s probably true. There was something about Carolyn that drew me to her the moment I saw her, and the way she moves—the way she’s witty and sharp and strong and confident—makes me want more of her.
Even though I shouldn’t.
For her sake as well as mine. She’s not going to want to be dragged into this mess.
I just can’t let it go. That’s the bitch of it. I can’t stop thinking about her, can’t stop wanting to be next to her. I could have had the guys pack up the moving truck and drive it to my second choice of new places.
If I’m going to approach the rest of my life with the attitude that I’ll never back down from getting what I want, then I have to start with Carolyn.
Even if it ends in disaster.
The thought of pursuing her makes my heart leap and turn inside my chest.
Fuck it.
Apocalypse or no, I’m going to see where this takes me.
First things first.
I text Eli Pierce.
What’s the plan for the Swan on Friday?
It takes him a few minutes, but he responds.
Go to the Swan. Get our regular table. Drink. Dance.
Who’s going?
This is as close as I can get to asking him if Carolyn will be there. Sending a bag of fancy sushi was one thing. Talking to all of her friends about her will just make me seem like a fucking creep.
Me, Quinn, Jess, Alec—the crowd.
I sigh heavily. Of course he doesn’t—
Oh, and probably Carrie Banks if she’s free. She’s usually up for a good time.
Cool. When?
9
A strange electricity moves down my arms to my fingertips. Two days and I’ll have the chance to be with Carolyn again. It’s too much to hope for a repeat of last Friday—way too fucking much to hope for—so I won’t even entertain the possibility. Just looking at her will be better than this.
The ghost of what I had with Elisa rears up, spearing my chest with cold regret. I swallow hard, trying to get the warmth of excitement back, and it’s fucking hard, and it fucking hurts, but I do it.
Then I move toward the new master bedroom. It’s not as large as the one in my old penthouse, but it’s also not stuffed with memories of Elisa, of what could have been with her.
I pull out a brand new pair of exercise gear, shorts and a tank top that’s tight on my cut abs, from the top drawer of the shelving unit in the walk-in closet. I take one second to survey how I look in the mirror. There’s a glint in my eyes, color in my cheeks. I’m not hunched over with the pain.
Damn right.
Not even Carolyn Banks can deter me now.
Gym. Food. Movies.
And tonight, when I dream about her, it will be all about the possibilities.
Chapter 17
Carolyn
When I slide into my seat at the Swan on Friday night, my heart is thudding nonstop against my rib cage. Eli and Quinn, Alec and Jess, even Jax and Catherine, are here tonight…and there are three empty seats at the table.
Eli texted me earlier this morning. His invitation was more of a command.
Swan. Tonight! 9!
I rolled my eyes as I scanned the text from behind the counter at the boutique. I was up late last night moderating Rainflower Blue, which doesn’t put me in the mood for a party, but as usual, Eli wouldn’t take no for an answer.
We need you C.
You do not need me. You can drink champagne and dance all by yourselves.
It’s the big show…you sure you want to miss it?
The big show, sure. Some famous pop singer was slated to be at the Swan on Friday night, and whenever that happens, the crowd surges and grows. People end up inviting all of their friends to the exclusive performances to convince them they’re somebody important, I guess.
Of course, the moment Eli started texting, the name of the singer completely escaped my mind. As if it would make much difference to me.
Fine. But only because you’re so charming.
What else was I going to do, anyway? Sit a
t home, picturing Ace’s every movement two floors above me while I ate takeout? Again.
My friends greet me with a chorus of hellos, and Jess pops up from her seat next to Alec and moves over to one of the open seats beside me.
“You look hot,” she says, her eyes sliding down the pink dress I borrowed from the boutique. Her grin is contagious. “Are you going to find somebody new and sexy to take home with you tonight?”
“No,” I hold my hands up in the air. “No way. Last time was a disaster.”
“Was it?” She cuts her eyes to the side, and boom, my heart is in my throat.
There’s Ace, walking across the room through the crowded tables, his suit accentuating the narrow line of his waist and the broad expanse of his muscled shoulders. He walks like a damn jungle cat, sensuous and sinuous and strong, and my mouth literally waters.
“He did send me sushi,” I whisper.
“What?”
“I’ll tell you later.” Ace is now even with the table.
“Kingsley!” Eli cries from the opposite side of the table. “Sit down, man. The performance is about to start.”
It’s true—on the raised stage behind the dance floor, men dressed in tight black outfits are rushing from side to side, setting up sound equipment and running tests on the equipment.
It all fades blindly into the background against the beating of my heart.
Ace is so close to me that I could reach out right now and touch his tailored Italian suit. I could reach out right now and undo the buttons of his jacket, slip it off his shoulders, and then do the same with his shirt, and run my hands over the bare skin of his chest, his washboard abs.
My shoulders tense. Where is he going to sit?
Ace puts his hands into his pockets and gives a nod to everyone around the table, then saunters around to the empty seats on the other side, dropping into one like he was born to be there.
My heart shrinks two sizes, and I turn back to Jess, trying to force my face into an expression that doesn’t look like disappointment.
“Sushi?” she says in a low voice, her eyes sparkling.
Ace is already engaged in a boisterous conversation with Jax Hunter. “He had sushi delivered to my place on Wednesday. I ran into him on the elevator and….”
“Did you hook up in the elevator?” Jess squeals, and I shush her.
“Oh, my God, Jess, no.”
“And he sent you food?”
“It was from Sasabune.”
“You love that place.”
“I know.” But how did Ace guess?
“What the hell is he doing now?” Jess says, her forehead wrinkling.
“He’s making it pretty clear that he doesn’t want to associate with me in public.”
“You sure about that?”
I glance across toward Ace’s seat and a jolt of pure heat streaks through me, right to my core. He’s talking to Jax, but his gray eyes are locked on me. When our eyes meet, a shiver runs down my spine.
Shit.
My resolve not to play games with him comes back to me, so I straighten my back and edge my shoulders back. Maybe what he’s doing is putting the ball in my court. I’m the one in charge of how this evening plays out.
My first move?
A slow, wicked grin, my eyes locked on his.
His mouth twitches into a tight-lipped smile, and then he looks away, toward Eli, who has joined in the conversation with a raunchy joke.
Game on.
The conversation swirls around us, but I’m aware of his every movement, so it comes as no surprise when he stands up when a redhead approaches the table in the middle of the concert—the music is loud and poppy and the beat throbs in my veins—to whisper in Ace’s ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but my throat goes dry, and then he’s standing up, offering his arm to her and heading toward the dance floor without a backward glance.
Heat rises to my cheeks, and for a moment all I can do is fumble with the napkin in my lap. Then I snatch up my wine and take two long sips of it.
A nudge at my side catches my attention. “What are you waiting for?” Jess says into my ear.
“Nothing,” I say, putting the wine glass down and standing up.
Ace and the redhead are in the middle of the dance floor, the music blasting out over us as the pop star shimmies across the stage.
I’m almost on top of them when she leans in to say something. The music is loud, so she’s shouting, and I hear, “—what you did to her. Just tell me.”
He turns his face away from her and our eyes meet, and then I’m taking three more confident steps toward him, putting my hand on his arm. “Excuse me,” I say to the redhead. “I’m stepping in for this dance.”
Her mouth drops open, but no words come out. Is she going to scream at me? Cause a scene? Do I care?
No.
The music throbs in my ears.
Then she whirls around and disappears into the crowd and I’m left alone with Ace.
Chapter 18
Ace
It takes everything I have to get up from the table and walk away from Carolyn with the busty redhead who came over to steal me away. It’s hard to hear the whispers about me over the music of the pop-star-of-the-moment, but as I suspected, it’s making me even more irresistible to the women at the Swan tonight. The redhead is the first one to get up the courage to break into the small circle around our table.
I don’t catch her name. It’s not important. The woman I really want to be walking away with is still sitting at the table, watching me leave. I can feel her eyes boring into my back.
Ever since that smile, my skin has been on fire with the need to touch her. My hands ache to slide over the curves of her waist and pull her into me until the length of her is pressed against me. The heat between us is electric, taut, and I feel it every time she glances across the table at me.
But I’m not going to be the one to make the first move. Not tonight.
I’ve left the door open.
She’ll come to me, if that’s what she wants.
Although if she waits much long, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist taking what I want.
We haven’t been dancing for two minutes when the redhead leans in and says something I can’t hear.
“Excuse me?”
“Did you really kill your wife?”
The smile plastered across her face, her glittering eyes, sends a cold spike of adrenaline down to the tips of my fingers. Somehow, this woman learned what the police in Italy suspected. The rumors have finally reached critical mass among world rumor circles.
“No.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, nuzzling up to me.
Then, “Listen, you’re sexy as hell,” she says, rolling her hips against mine. I can’t seem to get a sense of the beat—the music has turned into a kind of hellish noise—but my legs won’t work. I have to get away from this bitch, but I can’t. “I can’t blame you for wanting to be free. But we’re all wondering what you did to her. Just tell me.”
I’m looking for an escape—any escape—and when I turn my head, I’m looking at a fucking angel. Carolyn is two feet away from us and closing in fast, and before the redhead can say another word, Carolyn’s hand is on my arm and she’s glaring into the other woman’s eyes. “Excuse me,” she shouts over the music. “I’m stepping in for this dance.”
The redhead’s jaw drops and her eyes cut from Carolyn to me, then back to Carolyn, who straightens her shoulders.
I expect an argument, get ready to take Carolyn’s arm and lead her off the dance floor, out the side exit and take her…anywhere. Anywhere, as long as I’m next to her.
But the redhead spins on her heel and rushes off through the crowd without another word.
Carolyn turns toward me, her eyes sparkling. “I don’t think so,” she shouts.
I shake my head. What is she talking about?
“You’re not going to look at me like that and then go dance with another woman. Not a ch
ance.”
I laugh out loud. For the first time in my life, I’m standing on the dance floor with a woman who shares my attitude about getting what I want. “Prove it.”
In answer, Carolyn puts her hands on my shoulders, then starts to move with the music, her hips swaying, her dress giving me a tantalizing hint of what’s underneath. When she turns around, the curve of her ass brushing against the front of my pants, moving with the beat, I almost ask her to marry me right then.
A painful stab of regret stops the words at my lips. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it fucking right. My way. And that’s going to involve some planning, if the news is already spreading through New York City. Carolyn could find out from anyone.
The more she dances, the less I can play it cool. By the time she takes my hand in hers and tugs me away from the dance floor and back toward the table, I’m on fire with need for her. The sight of her pink cheeks, flushed from the dancing and flirting, just about pushes me over the edge.
I resist the instinct to wrap my arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple. Despite the heat between us while we were dancing, I’m not going to lose control in front of everyone else at the table. Let them think what they damn well please.
I’m busy preparing myself to sit back down with all of Carolyn’s friends and order another round of drinks when she stops dead in her tracks, halfway between the dance floor and the table.
“Let’s get out of here.”
My heart flips over, and I give her my most charming smile. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Carolyn’s eyes are huge and dark, and her mouth is set. “Yes.”
She spins around, putting her arm through mine, and takes us directly back through the dance floor, leading me through the crowd with precision and focus. Halfway to the stage, she takes a hard right, sliding between couples that are so into the music they barely notice us. I can’t wipe the damn smile off my face. We’re ghosting out of this party, and I fucking love it.
I reach for my phone and almost drop it when Carolyn picks up speed as we leave the dance floor. The text I send Noah is a garbled mess, but I’m sure as hell not going to stop her right now so that I can send a perfect message to my driver.