Page 140
“I believe I am needed elsewhere,” Cillian says, taking a glass of champagne from a passing tray and giving it to the older woman. “Please enjoy the rest of the event.”
Aurelio tries to reach Cil, but I slide in between them and follow the Prince to wherever he’s taking us.
A few minutes later, we arrive at a gallery full of statues that is thankfully less crowded.
Cillian looks around, and once he sees no one is watching, he moves closer and tugs my shirt.
I lean down as close as I can without making it obvious, and Cillian whispers in my ear.
“Any news?”
“None.”
“Are you sure the stalker is on the island?”
“Very sure.”
“But—” Cillian looks up and stops as soon as he sees how close I am to him.
His breath hitches, and I can see the lust in his eyes… the same lust he gazed at me with back in the cabin.
And fuck, do I want him back.
“But…” he continues, still close to me. Still whispering. “We’re halfway into the event, and nothing has happened.”
I lean closer to him, so close I can smell his fruity shampoo, the same one we shared at the cabin, and place my hand behind his arm.
Then I glance up, past him, so if anyone saw us from afar, it would look as if I were giving him instructions instead of feeling him up…
Which is exactly what I am doing.
“There is no way someone this obsessed would miss an event this important to you, Cillian. It’s most likely they’ll try something tomorrow at the auction or at the gala.”
“And meanwhile he’ll just taunt me with stupid notes…”
“The stalker wants to control you, Prince. To keep you scared, distracted, and thinking of him until he decides when to stop.”
“Well, his stupid plan failed because you’re here.”
I grin, sliding my hand lower and feeling him shiver against my palm.
“You do have all eight Harknetts surveilling you. That’s some VIP treatment for sure.”
“No…” Cillian whispers, his eyes locking on mine. “I meant I can’t be distracted and thinking about what they’re doing because I’m already distracted and thinking of you.”
Fuck this…
Kiss him, Knox.
Just close your eyes, pull him closer, and kiss him…
So I do it…
I lift my arms, press them against his back, and pull him closer.
“Cil!” A tall man in his late fifties with a fancy cane and a British accent opens his arms toward Cillian.
Cillian flinches at the sudden change in mood, and I take a step back.