Fiance Next Door - Page 48

“No?”

I finish my drink and set my empty glass down. “Good evening, Owens. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my wife back.”

“Of course.”

I leave him and walk towards Aster. I clear my throat and the women around her fall silent.

“Excuse me, ladies,” I tell them. “But this is my wife’s first gala and there are some people I’d like her to meet.”

“Sure,” Desiree says.

The others silently step away so I can step forward and offer Aster my arm. She takes it.

“It was a genuine pleasure meeting you,” Aster tells Desiree.

“Oh, please,” Desiree answers. “We’re friends now. No need to be so formal. I have some people to speak with, too, but I’ll see you around.”

She turns to me.

“I hope you enjoy the gala, Mr. Burke. Thank you for coming.”

“As long as my wife is enjoying herself, I will,” I tell her. “And I’ll be happy to write you a check for your charity later.”

She gives me a big smile. “Thank you.”

I nod and usher Aster away.

“How much are you giving?” she asks me after we step out of the hall.

“I’ll let you decide that,” I answer. “You’re the one who’s her friend, after all.”

Aster smiles. “She’s nicer than I thought. Actually, everyone’s nicer than I thought.”

“I told you everyone would be nice to you.”

“Yes, you did,” she agrees. “By the way, who was that you were talking to earlier?”

She saw?

“Just a fellow businessman,” I answer.

One I don’t want to spare another thought for.

“Are you going to introduce me to him?” Aster asks.

“No.” I brush her hair off her cheek. “But I am going to introduce you to some powerful and interesting men and women.”

~

“I can’t believe you’re friends with Steven Spielberg,” Aster says as she sits on the couch and takes off her shoes – the first thing she does when we get back to the apartment. “Or Angelina Jolie. Or the Speaker of the House. Or that guy who does illusions that I’ve been seeing on YouTube.”

“I didn’t know that illusionist,” I correct her as I take off my tie. “He was a fan, not a friend.”

“They all seemed to be your fans.”

“True.” I shrug off my jacket and let it hang from my hand. “And you seem to be theirs so I guess that makes you my fan, too.”

She snorts. “I already am.”

She is?

She gets off the couch and walks towards me. “I can’t believe I’m married to such a clever, rich, generous man with such famous, influential friends.”

She’s not only saying that because she’s had too much to drink, is she?

“You better not piss me off, then.”

She laughs.

“Oh, and you forgot handsome,” I tell her. “And did you say rich? And – ”

Aster leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. I look at her with wide eyes.

Did that really just happen?

“Thank you,” she tells me. “For bringing me to that gala tonight. I had fun.”

So it was a thank-you kiss, huh?

I lift my hand to touch her cheek. “Better than the prom, huh?”

“Much better.”

I smile and stroke her cheek. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

I should take my hand off her cheek now, but I can’t. Those brown eyes of hers, still glimmering with childlike wonder and excitement, like a kid who has just been on a roller coaster, draw me in.

I hold her gaze. I search her eyes for resistance and find none. I wait for her to pull away but she doesn’t.

So I lower my gaze to her lips. I slide my hand down so my palm cradles her jaw. My thumb brushes over the corner of her mouth. Her lips part slightly.

Then I lean over to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

I give her a second to protest, and when I hear none, I press my lips gently to hers. Aster remains still.

I place my other hand on her arm and kiss her again. Still gently, with all the self-restraint I can muster, though I make sure to seal her lips fully with mine. Then I capture her upper lip and suck on the soft flesh.

I feel a shiver go through her. When I kiss her lips again, she kisses me back. Tentatively. Awkwardly. But she’s never kissed me back before and the fact that she’s doing it lights a fire in my veins.

I drop my jacket. My arm goes around her and I pull her close. I kiss her more passionately, hungrily, like a man who’s been deprived of air for too long. To my surprise, Aster matches my intensity. Her lips collide with mine over and over. Her hands grip my shoulders.

Just as I thought, she’s been waiting, wanting to be kissed.

The next time Aster parts her lips, I slip my tongue in between. It brushes against hers and she trembles. I move my hand to the back of her head to grip her hair as I open my mouth wider, push my tongue in deeper. Aster moans. Her tongue writhes against mine, just thrashing around at first, but I pin it down and soon it pushes against me with more control. Our tongues rub against each other and she gives another moan.

Tags: Ashlee Price Romance
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