A hot, heady awareness replaced my panic. No one else was in the hallway, and Stella’s scent—fresh, subtle, but damn intoxicating—clouded my head.
The memory of her in the car, staring at me with those big green eyes and parted lips, her hard nipples all but begging me to take them in my mouth and taste how sweet they were, flashed through my mind.
Not unlike the way she was staring at me now, only this time, defiance sharpened the edges of her softness.
And fuck, that was a turn-on.
Heat rushed to my groin until my cock ached with a painful throb.
“What I want…” I pressed a thumb against the pulse at the base of her neck. Its wild flutter told me she wasn’t as indifferent to the pull between us as she pretended to be. “Is for you to be safe. There are bad people in this world, Butterfly, and some of them are in the room right outside. So next time, I don’t care if I’m in the middle of a conversation with the Queen of fucking England. Interrupt me. Understand?”
Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Butterfly?”
Beautiful. Elusive. Hard to catch.
When I didn’t answer, she released an exhale that caressed my chest and tightened my groin to the point of pain. “Is that all you want?”
“Not even close.”
A tiny shiver rippled through her. “Because you don’t want to go through the trouble of finding another regular companion for events.”
“Because I don’t want to be jailed for murder if anyone touches a hair on your head.”
A grim smile touched my lips when her eyes widened. She had no clue who I was or what I was capable of.
Meanwhile, I knew more about her than I cared to admit.
Frustration and loathing burned beneath my skin.
I pushed myself off the wall and stepped back.
Adjusted my cufflinks.
Tried to ease the relentless, pounding need in my chest.
“It’s time to return to the party.” Ice cooled my voice. “Shall we?”
We returned to the party in silence.
I didn’t take my eyes off her the rest of the night and told myself it was because I didn’t want a repeat of my earlier scare.
After all, I’d always been good at lying to myself.