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Why, after three months of no contact at all, did you pick tonight to want to see me?
Beau Bennett had many facets, and I had seen several of them.
Tonight provided me with more insight into the enigma of a man who had far too much wealth and power at his disposal, and knew how cruelly to wield it.
Beau stepped forward, right into my space and slipped a blue rose bud that was just opening into my hair. “Because I thought you might be triggered if I came in,” he murmured, gliding roughened fingers around my jawline before he dropped his hand.
Just when I thought I understood this man, he threw me for a fresh loop.
“That was...thoughtful.” I frowned at him.
The corner of that mouth that could kiss so well I still remembered his touch on my lips months later rose, and he stared down at me, his dark blue eyes matching his suit beneath thick, black, roguishly styled hair.
“I try to be. I believe you ordered a limo?” He held out a hand, and I tentatively placed mine in his, letting the warmth wrap around me as he drew me outside.
Out the front of my dorm sat a sleek limo, all sweeping curves that denounced it as a luxury European vehicle. Beau stepped up and held out the door, the shimmering paint reflecting beneath the parking lot lights.
The damn thing was blue. Same shade as his suit.
“You got a car to match your clothes?” Or was it his eyes? I tilted my head back and studied him.
Beau returned the favor, breaking into a full, deep laugh I felt right to the tips of my toes.
“You’re too cute, Sylvie. This is why I stayed away.” His knuckles drifted along my bare shoulder and across my exposed back where the dress sloped in a deep scoop. “Not cute. Beautiful. Slide on over, honey.” He increased the pressure of his touch an infinitesimal amount.
I dipped my knees, sliding onto the seat and across to the other side, running my hands along the black leather-the only thing that wasn’t blue at least–and finding no seatbelts.
“Where are the–”
Beau’s hand cupped the back of my neck, turning me to face him with little effort on his behalf as the door closed behind him and the car started. “I shouldn’t have asked you tonight,” he murmured, angling my head back.
I stared up at him, one hand pressed to the dark shirt he wore beneath his suit jacket, ready to push him away but I...didn’t.
This is insane. I am insane. I watched him kill a man right in front of me.
I thought I hallucinated until he brought it up while I was in the ambulance. Yet another reason not to trust him.
But I didn’t push him back. Not when he leaned into my space, and grazed his lips over mine. Not when he squeezed my neck hard, and pulled me into him, kissing me slowly, deeply, for all his rough motions, crushing me against his chest.
The moan that slipped from me heated my cheeks. I pulled back, and he let me. Another surprise. “I– I missed that,” I whispered.
Confessed, maybe.
I lost my mind around this man, both hated and loved the way he made me feel with the same treacherous dichotomy of how I thought of him.
“Me too, Sylvie.” His voice lowered, a deep caress. “Tomorrow things will go back to the way they were,” he said regretfully.
“Why?” I searched his face as the limo sped beneath us, much faster than it should be. Beau screwed with my head that much.
“Because I can’t keep nice things.” His fingers dug into my skin firmly, hard, but the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. “I want to taste you again before...” He trailed off, slanting his mouth over mine, flicking the tip of my tongue with his.
My moan this time didn’t leave me embarrassed as he lifted me onto his lap and kissed me long and deep, his hands sweet and caressing and just a touch possessive, all the way to the gala.
The one thing I regretted about tonight? That, like Cinderella, it would stop. But until then, this man was mine.
