Her pulse surged, temporarily making her light-headed when the call button went off and Edward’s voice came over the intercom.
“Mr. Donovan and six of his associates are on their way up.”
“Thank you, Edward,” she said sincerely. “I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
“No thanks is necessary. I’m only doing my job, and seeing to your needs gives me great satisfaction.”
She balanced the three trays bearing the expertly made appetizers—after all, she had been a waitress in a busy pub—and hurriedly set them down in the living room. Then she turned and took the few short steps toward the foyer.
Evangeline smoothed her dress and then went to stand a distance back from the elevator doors so she could issue a greeting, but most importantly see the approval and pride in Drake’s eyes when he realized the effort she’d put into being an asset to him and that, as she’d promised him, she would always take care of and protect him. And . . . she wanted him to be proud of her and not to ever regret his decision to make her his.
• • •
It was years of perfecting an impenetrable persona that enabled Drake to engage in conversation ranging from the random to the obscene with the “business associates” he was entertaining in his apartment tonight as they entered the elevator in his building. And actually give the impression he gave a fuck about whatever they had to say.
He rarely entertained in his home, usually opting for one of the many suites of offices and complexes he owned, a private room in an exclusive restaurant, or, depending on the business associate he was meeting with, they simply met at Impulse and took the premiere VIP suite overlooking the dance floor since Drake never allowed anyone he didn’t trust implicitly into his office at the club.
Before Evangeline, it was simply a matter of not wanting his private domain trespassed on, but now he felt as though he defiled it by bringing such filth into Evangeline’s home.
But some matters required no room or margin for error. No chance of being overheard, misunderstood or, in this case, being seen in a public place together.
Thank God he’d had the forethought to ensure Evangeline wouldn’t be present, because while Drake could school his features, mask his thoughts and allow nothing of what he was feeling to reflect in his eyes, when it came to his angel, he could no more appear indifferent than she could be anything but honest and sincere in both words and expression. And Drake’s greatest strength, the reason he was invincible, was that he had no weaknesses for his enemies to exploit.
Until now.
Until Evangeline.
If it was known that Evangeline was his greatest and only weakness she would absolutely be used to take him down, because where before he would never negotiate—never had reason to—there was nothing he wouldn’t do, wouldn’t sacrifice to keep her safe.
The mere thought of his angel being hurt or defiled because of him sent chilling fear through every part of his soul, and he was a man who feared nothing and no one.
“Sweet pad you have, Donovan,” one of the men said as they reached the top floor.
Drake gave him a lazy smile and drawled, “Only the best. Only way to live.”
“Hell yeah,” another chimed in.
The elevator doors opened and Drake came to an abrupt halt, shock and dread turning his veins to ice when he saw Evangeline standing at the end of the foyer, a shy, welcoming smile on her face and looking so achingly beautiful that he was momentarily robbed of speech.
Oh God. No. This wasn’t happening. What the fuck? He was going to kill Maddox. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t happening. He had to be imagining her presence, but an appreciative whistle from behind him confirmed the very real vision of the angel standing before him. And the evil he had sworn she would never be exposed to.
“Now that is one sweet piece,” one of the men said. “You’ve been holding out on us, Drake.”
“I wouldn’t mind having some of that,” another said crudely as the others laughed.
“Hey, Donovan. Is she part of tonight’s entertainment? Because I have to say, you certainly know how to throw one hell of a party.”
Evangeline flushed, embarrassment and trepidation shadowing her eyes. Uncertainty and fear flashed over her features. But then her chin came up and she calmly composed herself and started forward, her welcoming smile once more in place.
“Good evening, gentlemen. If you’d like to go into the living room, there are appetizers and drinks. Dinner will be ready and on the table shortly.”
“I hope to hell she’s dessert,” one muttered in a low voice.
Drake’s heart sank, and desolation settled deep into his bones for what he knew he had to do. What he had no choice but to do. And he’d never hated himself more than in this moment.