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“And yet we’re hiding from them.”
“I thought you agreed it was for the best right now.”
“I do. We’re fortifying the ranks while we’re not under attack.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“It means, we need this time, me and you. Time to build our relationship before family interferes. It’s a smart move, Mila. I see the wisdom in it. I’m not upset with you. But one day soon, I’m gonna tell the world you’re my girl. I’m gonna shout it from the rooftops. So be prepared.”
“I’ll shout with you.”
“Deal.” His arms run up and down my back.
“Team Mila and Zane.”
“Team Mila and Zane,” he repeats with a smile in his voice.
His arms wrap around me tightly and I do the same, melting into him. I burrow my head against his chest and let the beautiful music envelop me. We hold each other long after the first song ends. And many, many songs later.
Gently, he cups my chin and brings my face up to his for a kiss, the soft, slow intimate kind I know Zane loves.
Eventually, it turns into the hard and fast kiss Zane is an expert at. Somewhere in the midst of the kiss, we stop dancing. Somehow, he walks me backwards without me even realizing we’ve moved. Somehow, I end up pressed against the wall, kissing him with as much enthusiasm as he is kissing me.
And somewhere along the line, I know without a doubt that I’m deeply and madly in love with Zane Martel. More so than I ever thought possible.
This. This is what I’ve wanted. For a man to kiss me in a way that expresses everything he’s feeling inside. I feel his love, his desire, his longing. It’s more than that, though. I feel his emotions like they’re right there on the surface, displayed for me to see. He’s not holding back. He’s giving himself to me, heart and soul. No falling. He’s the fallen. I’m right there with him. His kiss says he can’t get enough, like he wants to consume me.
There’s no going back now.
Zane’s wrong. Debra and Ryker can’t touch us. Not when we’re building such a strong foundation.
We’re solid. They can’t break us.
chapter twenty-four
~
AFTER FRESHENING UPin my dressing room, I make my way to the meet and greet. I’m still in my black evening gown, my hair in a perfect up-do, soft tendrils curling on my neck and cheeks.
My first performance of the season went off without a hitch. I was in the zone and played my best yet. There was something about knowing Zane was in the audience, his eyes on me, that made me feel different, more alive, more animated than I’ve ever felt before.
I feel his love. I feel it emanating across a crowded performance hall and landing on me. And I absorb every molecule like a starving woman at her last meal.
As I visit with patrons, I finally find Zane in the crowd. He’s across the room, his eyes on me every time I glance his way. We share a few small smiles, strangely satisfying smiles that say we have a secret that’s ours and ours alone.
I’ve never understood the meaningful glances between loving couples, the looks in their eyes, the silent messages they send each other. Now I do. Yet, it’s only a glimpse of the bond that awaits us as our relationship progresses. I look forward to every moment, each new development.
This is torture. I have a crazy desire for the evening to be over so I can be with Zane and kiss him until he begs for mercy.
Besides, I have the most amazing news to share with him. I’m about to burst if I don’t blurt it out soon.
My step is light as I make my way through the crowd, stopping here and there to chat with patrons. I appreciate the kind words, the praise, but I’m eager to speak with my man.
There he is. I see him, leaning against a wall as he waits, doing nothing except watching me, his eyes doing things to me we’ve never done before. The sight of him makes my breath hitch in my chest. I now know what breathless truly means.
He’s holding a dozen beautifully wrapped red roses.
For me.
