He continued to stare.
I followed his gaze and watched where it landed. Arwen stood in a black cocktail dress, skintight and backless, with five-inch heels that made her height more compatible with mine. With a glass of wine in her hand, she talked to some of the guys who had cornered her, becoming a highlight of the evening since most people recognized her from the opera.
Tony was married, but he didn’t seem to care if his wife noticed the subject of his obsession. “You lucked out, Maverick. She’s one hell of a beauty.”
She turned heads everywhere she went. I noticed it anytime we were in public together. Men couldn’t control themselves and eye-fucked her like their fantasy might be reality someday. “Thank you.”
“How did you meet?”
I went with the truth. “At the opera. She performed, and I went backstage to talk to her.”
“And the rest is history?” he asked.
I swirled my wine. “Something like that.”
“The sex good?”
I lowered my glass and stared at him, finding the question offensive. I was used to men saying inappropriate things about my wife’s legs and her gorgeous ass, but I let them slide because her sexiness was impossible to ignore. But I didn’t appreciate a question so intimate. I never talked about my lovers like that, not with Kent or anyone else. “How’s the sex with your wife?”
When he grew uncomfortable at the question, I’d made my point.
Tom walked up to me, wearing a dark blue suit with a black tie. Everyone in the room was an affluent member of society, the rich and aristocratic of Italy. They were business owners, models, and designers. I put up with the boredom because they were excellent connections to have for business purposes. He reached me and gripped me by the shoulder. “We’ve been trying to convince your wife to sing us a song. She’s too shy, so how about you give her a nudge?”
Like that woman ever listened to me. “She’s stubborn.”
“You’re stubborn too, so you’re perfect for the job.” He clapped me on the back then guided me across the room.
Arwen was surrounded by admirers, both men and women, trying to get her to serenade everyone in the room. Despite her talent, she was unusually humble about it. It was something she never talked about with me, only if I asked. Her eyes settled on me when I came close, and I saw the gentle look of affection she always gave whenever I was concerned. She’d despised me when we first met, but now she turned to me the way she used to turn to her father. “I know why they’ve sent you…”
I came close to her, circling my arm around her waist and holding her close. I acted like her husband, not just to put on a show, but so the guys would stop eye-fucking her right in front of me. She didn’t mean anything to me, but she was still mine. I didn’t like it when people eyed my things. “Just a song.”
“I don’t know…so many people here.”
“Not more than an entire auditorium.”
“But I don’t know these people…”
“You don’t know anyone at the theater either.”
She opened her mouth to argue once more.
“Sheep, just do it.”
She closed her mouth at the use of her nickname, her eyes softening at the affection.
“I scared off your admirer. You owe me.”
“I owe you for a lot more than that, Maverick.” Her arm rested on mine as her hand gripped my bicep. Her affection for me was peculiar because she seemed to admire me and respect me, but all she wanted was my friendship. She wanted to be my lover sometimes, but she didn’t want to be the only woman in my life. It was a strange relationship, so deep and so shallow at the same time.
“Then sing.” My hand released her waist, and I stepped away, leaving her alone in front of the fireplace while everyone gathered around to hear those amazing pipes release a beautiful song. Without accompanying instruments, it would be a song from her voice alone—but it would still be perfect.
She gave a nervous smile and brought her fingertips together before she finally opened her mouth to sing. Without even warming up, she managed to produce the perfect notes through no effort, creating a song that mesmerized everyone—including me.
Tony stood beside me, not taking a single drink from his glass through the entire performance. No one else moved an inch. They hardly even breathed. They were all equally entranced by the music she created, by the vivid picture she painted with just her voice. Not a single person cared about anything else at that moment.
At the end of her song, her voice reached so high, it resonated with the particles in the air, made the entire room shift with the energy. Empty glasses on the table shattered when she hit the highest note, exploding because of her power.