Lie (Betrothed 8)

He watched me, his eyes still focused on mine.

I knew every woman in the room wanted to be me, was disappointed they didn’t even get the opportunity to buy him a drink. He came right over to me, and this time, I didn’t let him slip from my grasp. I touched him because I wanted everyone to know he was off-limits, at least for tonight.

He pulled his hand away then reached under the table to grab my chair. Effortlessly, he dragged it across the floor toward him, maneuvering it around the corner of the table so I would be right by his side. He was so heavy in his chair that it didn’t move, only mine. Once I was in place, his arm slipped around my shoulders and his fingertips lightly touched my hair.

My face moved into his neck, and I breathed in the scent of him, the mixture of his cologne, his laundry detergent, and his soul. My hand went to his thigh, and I gripped him through his jeans, feeling just how muscular and strong he was. I didn’t know what had come over me. I was so relieved to see his face, to be with a man I had forged such a strong bond with. It was like being with an old friend, but so much more. “I missed you…” I whispered into his ear even though no one could overhear us. We were in our own world where there were no other people, no music.

He turned his face closer to mine, his cheek against my lips. “I missed you too.”

I sat that way with him for a long time, just appreciating the affection. I loved being smothered by his large size, feeling a strong man wrapped around me like an indestructible cage. I pressed my forehead against his neck and just sat there. It’d been over a month since we’d last spoken so there was plenty to talk about, but I still didn’t have a single word to say.

Neither did he.

We sat together for hours, saying nothing, and by the time it was almost one in the morning, most of the people had already left. My friends went home because I was obviously busy, and the only people who remained were the people who hadn’t found anyone or who had nothing to go home to.

He pulled his face away slightly to look me in the eye, which he hadn’t done much since we were so close together. “You look beautiful.” His hand slid across my cheek and into my hair, keeping it from my face so he could take a good look at me.

“Thank you.”

“I miss being able to look at you.” With his intense gaze, he showered me with his focus, looking at me in a way every woman dreamed about.

“Me too.”

“How are you?” He asked the question like we were friends, like he cared about my well-being, like he had been thinking about me even when we were no longer in each other’s lives.

“It took a long time for me to get out of the house. This is my first night out…”

“And how did it go?”

“Rough in the beginning. But it ended pretty great.” My hand squeezed his thigh. “How about you?”

“Fine.”

“Releasing those girls cause any problems…?” He told me it would be complicated because of the reaction of his men, because of the way his operation ran, but if there were problems, he probably wouldn’t tell me about them.

“I had to change their business plan and it’s taking some time, but I think it’s working. Now I have to do it with everyone else…”

“What do you mean, everyone else?”

He held his drink with one hand. “They aren’t the only business in the city…”

My mind tried to process what that meant. “So, you intend to stop them all?”

He nodded.

I was speechless for a moment. “You’re doing that for me?”

“No. I told you I feel differently about it now.”

“But that’s because of me…”

He never replied.

I leaned into him and placed a kiss on his neck, my attraction deepening. His actions didn’t vindicate his crimes, didn’t fix what he did to Damien, but it still resonated all the way down to my soul. “Thank you.” We’d been holding each other close all night at the bar, but Heath hadn’t asked me to go home because he assumed my answer was still no.

I wasn’t sure what my answer was anymore.

He finished his drink and left the glass on the table. “I should go.” He sat still for a moment, not pulling away, like he was waiting for me to object. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

I was disappointed that he was going to leave, take his touch away and give it to somebody else, but there was no other outcome for us. Without really thinking about what I was saying, I answered. “No, I’m parked right outside.” I’d managed to grab a spot at the curb right outside the entrance.