Page 80 of Feral King

“Excellent,” Julian says, then turns to the three of them. “Now head over there before I have you escorted over.”

They retreat without another word. Laura’s heels click furiously across the floor while Alexander follows with his hand on Sophia’s back.

Julian turns me gently toward him.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Yes. I think so. It’s just… God, I can’t imagine that being all anyone talks about after the event.”

He grins.

“Then let’s give them something else to discuss.”

He leans in, tilts my chin up with his index finger, and kisses me. Gently at first, then deeply. Then he slowly pulls away.

“You have an event to run,” he says. “And it’s extraordinary. You’re extraordinary. Now go.”

I smile, and in that instant, all I want is to kiss him back—hard.

But I don’t.

“Thank you,” I say, just above a whisper.

As I turn to go, my hands are shaking, my heart hammering.

I take a deep breath, straighten my gown, and lift my chin. Then I walk back into the room I built, ready to run the most successful fundraiser the Irina Volkov Foundation has ever seen.

CHAPTER 29

LYRA

The event ends the way all the best events do—slowly, reluctantly, with donors lingering over the last of the wine and exchanging business cards, telling me they’ve never seen the foundation in better shape.

Elena finds me on her way out.

“Lovely, my dear. Simply lovely.”

I want to play it cool, and I know I should. But I can’t help it—I freakingbeamat her words.

“Thank you so much, Elena. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she replies, raising a playfully chiding finger. “My assistance was my Rolodex. Accomplishing all of the difficult tasks was purely your doing.”

She turns, taking in one last look.

“I was worried about this,” she says. “Not your abilities, of course. But about this organization, Irina’s foundation. WithAlexander and Sophia… it wasn’t in good hands. Now, it is. Irina is smiling tonight. I’m sure of it.”

I almost lose it right there on the spot. Tears form in my eyes, but I manage to quickly wipe them away.

“Thank you,” is all I can say.

She leans in, giving me a quick, but warm hug.

“Time for me to retire for the evening,” she says. “My days of after-parties are over, unfortunately. But do enjoy the rest of your night. I look forward to working with you on the next. And the next.”

We smile at each other, and then she’s gone. I feel like I’m walking on air.

Anya approaches, the huge grin on her face and the little bounce to her walk, making it clear she understands what just went down.