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Part of me so desperately wants to keep her. I shouldn’t make her mine. But maybe…maybe there’s a way.
I swallow as she shakes her head at my question. “I didn’t know it wasyourgala,” she confirms.
I look around us, suddenly wanting her to myself. “Let’s head home,” I suggest as I lead us off the dance floor and let Cruz know I’m departing. The evening is almost over, and after all, it’s my event, I can leave when I want. And right now, I want to leave with Isa.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Isa
He takes his jacket off my shoulders as I stand in front of the fireplace in the library. “I apologize for not thinking to order you a shawl,” he states, his hands running down my bare arms.
“It’s alright. I wasn’t that cold,” I lie. While the temperature is in the upper forties today, it was cold, but I didn’t exactly own a jacket or shawl that would go with this dress. I turn to face him and see the look of concern on his face.
This man confuses the hell out of me. I swore he was embarrassed to have been caught with me after the snowstorm and now I feel like he’s treating me as though I’m the most precious thing in the world. It feels like that night we shared in his bedroom. The memory of that night heats my cheeks and I swirl back toward the fire.
His large hands come to rest on my exposed shoulders. I can feel the warmth of his body behind mine, and something about that feels like home. He feels like home. That thought jars me and I feel my body tense. He quickly removes his hands as if his touch has caused me discomfort. I want to scream for him to keep them there, that I like the way his skin feels against mine, but I chicken out and stay silent.
“Would you like some scotch?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you,” I say as I watch the mesmerizing flames lick at the stone tiles on the inside of the fireplace.
I hear him clinking glasses and I know he’s at the small hidden bar near the sitting area. I turn toward him as he walks over with two glasses in his hand. I accept one of the fine crystal tumblers.
“To a wonderful evening,” he says as he taps his glass against mine.
I raise mine and we both take a long sip of the scotch. His eyes don’t leave mine, and damn, I feel the intensity of his gaze.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks as he takes a seat and leans back in the chair, placing his ankle on his opposite knee. He’s undone his bowtie and his top two buttons are undone. And he’s back to looking like a cover model on a billionaire romance.
I sit on the edge of the seat opposite him, holding my glass in my lap. “I did. It was nice. I didn’t expect to know anyone.”
If looks could kill, I’d be very afraid of dying right now.
“How do you know Jace?” he asks.
I swallow because I’m feeling like I way underestimated how much Adam loathes Jace.
“H-he is just a patron of the library,” I stammer before taking a gulp of scotch and feeling it burn as it slides down my throat.
“Is he a regularpatronof your library?” Adam asks. His jaw is so clenched, I’m surprised he can speak.
“He doesn’t come by any more often than my other patrons,” I assure him.
His jaw unclenches slightly. “I see.”
“I feel like there’s a story there,” I state.
His jaw re-clenches and I let out a long breath. This man’s anger is like a furnace that’s overheated and ready to blow.
He cracks his neck. “Remember I told you how I met Bastian?”
“Yes…your girlfriend…” I trail off as his knowing eyes wait for me to put two and two together.
“No,” I whisper.
“Yes,” he affirms. “Jace Baskins stole my girlfriend and broke Bastian’s heart in the process.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
