She trails off with a wink before rotating to face a frowning Emmy. I press my lips into a straight line, refusing to allow the threatening grin to grace my lips. Then, intent on waiting out the fitting in the confines of the car, I retreat toward the doorto duck back out onto the rainy pavement, but Ava’s voice at my back stops me, and I glance back at her.
“Please stay, Mr. Holloway. I’ll get you a towel to dry off.” Then she quirks a provocative brow. “Besides, I may have need of you today.”
EMERSON
“I’m almost finished with the buttons, Miss Hart.”
“Oh, thank heavens.”
I nod gratefully at Tarah, Ava’s assistant, who, for the past twenty minutes, has been painstakingly molding Ava’s creation to my body.
The extensively beaded silver and nude dress boasts a plunging neckline, a train of off-white feathers, and intricately sewn beaded buttons that run from the center of my back all the way to the floor. To say it’s been a process would be an understatement.
My jaw clenches suddenly when Ava’s light giggle carries through to the changing room, followed by Ford’s deep chuckle.
When it had come to light that they knew one another, my stupid brain had begun to run through a million and one scenarios – none of which should matter to me, considering how I moved past this man and his betrayal years ago.
You’re notthatgood an actress that you can lie to yourself, Em!
“And done!” Tarah beams up at me with delight before rising to stand. “You look even better than we imagined, Miss Hart.”
Another giggle from Ava makes my grateful smile falter, and suddenly I want nothing more than to get the hell out of here. IfFord Holloway wants to flirt, he can damn well do so on his own time.
With a renewed, fake-as-hell smile plastered to my face, I follow Tarah from the changing room and out into the open space of the fitting area.
My eyes immediately land on Ford, whose back is against the farthest wall, while Ava extends a measuring tape across his absurdly broad chest.
“But it would give me greatpleasureto design a suit for you, Ford. I insist…”
Ava trails off as I step onto the fitting platform, glancing over her shoulder to meet my gaze before looking back at an eerily quiet Ford.
His eyes are fixated on me, watching me with a hunger that rattles me to my core. My heart quivers as my forehead creases, even as I can’t tear my eyes from the man before me. The pull between us—the one that apparently never left—feels real enough that I could reach out and touch it.
“I’ve created some stunning pieces throughout my career, Miss Hart, but this dress, with your body as the conduit, is hands-down my greatest work.” Ava’s voice barely registers above the sound of my blood pounding in my ears. “Wouldn’t you agree, Ford?”
The man in question physically jolts and the spell surrounding us lifts as he nods slowly, glancing around the room before his gaze clashes with mine again, as though he can’t keep his eyes off me.
“An incomparable masterpiece.”
His guttural profession hangs between us as my throat tightens with an emotion I thought long dead to me until something changes in Ford’s ocean-blue gaze, and I can see the moment he closes himself off once more.
Then he drops his head, and murmurs something about leaving the women to their business before ducking out. Silence surrounds us until I hear the main door close behind him.
“Well…” Ava addresses me with twinkling hazel eyes, making my cheeks heat. “Tension so thick I could cut it with a knife, Miss Hart. Color me intrigued!”
The elevator doors ping open, giving me and Ford access to my penthouse at Ataraxia. Before I can disembark, he holds up a hand, silently indicating to stay put by the elevator.
I roll my eyes as he makes his way off to canvas the apartment for intruders, despite the fact his security system in this place would rival Fort Knox.
With a heavy sigh, I lean back against the wall by the elevator and close my eyes, relieved that today is almost over.
Following the incident at Ava Sinclair’s, the journey to my second interview of the day had been silent as the grave, and I’d been more than grateful for it.
What had happened only confused me, and I have too much going on right now to deal with unwanted confusion. Even if that same confusion had looked at me as though I’d hung the moon and all the stars in the night sky.
As though the last five years were nothing but a blip on the radar, and we were theuswe were always meant to be…
Stop that, Emerson Hart. Stop. It!
