“I don’t have any secrets.”
She gives me a half smile. “Don’t you? Then why is everybody in the room talking about you right now?”
I lean in close, like I’m about to reveal something, and her breasts rise under the dress. “Look at me.”
Carolyn takes me at my word, rakes her eyes down my face to the front of my suit. “I’m looking.”
“That’s why they’re talking.”
She laughs. “Oh, so you’re God’s gift to humankind?”
“To womankind, at least.”
Fuck. The heat between us is scorching. Every breath makes me want her more.
She cocks her head, considers me. “What brings you back to New York?”
“Change in circumstances.”
“I won’t pry.” She purses her lips.
“Does it really matter why I’m here? All I care about is that I’m here. Next to you.”
The smile returns, and my chest turns to molten heat. For a split second, I think she might fish for a compliment, blush and turn away, shaking her head, but no. “Is here really the best venue for an intimate conversation?” The sentence is dripping with possibility.
“Do you have somewhere else in mind?”
“Your place.”
Damn.
Chapter 7
Carolyn
This is exactly how I end up getting hurt. I go all-in on a man at the Swan, or at some other party, and I fall hard. I fall for his body, and then I fall for his mind, and then I’m swept up in the heat of it, the romance, and it’s all over. It’s over even at the beginning, before it starts, because inevitably problems arise, like he turns out to be a selfish asshole who can’t keep his hands off of other women, even when I’m staying at his place four nights a week with a toothbrush in one of his bathroom drawers.
That kind of man is exactly why I started Rainflower Blue—so that women could warn other women. Most of the traffic there focuses on confirming or refuting that kind of rumor.
The website swirls at the back of my mind, a pest that won’t leave me alone. Is that why I want to know Ace’s secrets? Or does it run deeper than that?
But none of that can eclipse the hum beneath my skin, the goose bumps pricking up on my arms when Ace stands up, in full view of everyone at the Swan, and offers me his hand.
The table goes silent, Eli breaking off his story and looking across at us with a quizzical expression, mouth half-open. But he doesn’t speak and the silence grows, the gap in the sound spreading from our table to the next.
If I don’t make a move, the entire room is going to be staring at us in a matter of seconds.
I’m frozen in my seat. This is the point of no return. If I take his hand, I’m going to leave with him. The sun is going to rise in the east and set in the west, and if I say yes right now, all the dominos are going to fall, one by one, until there’s nothing left but me and my website….
My body won’t take no for an answer.
I put my hand in Ace’s and heat crackles between us. It’s all I can do to stand.
I’ve left my purse hanging over the back of the seat next to Jess, so, with my breath coming fast and hard, I tug at Ace’s hand, both of us moving pointedly around the table. Jess grins up at me, beaming, her teeth biting at her lower lip, and as I give a clipped goodbye, heart racing, she gives me a subtle thumbs up.
She wouldn’t be if she knew how this was going to end.
Right now, in this moment, with my hand in his, I don’t care at all.
As we step away from the table, Ace calls back over his shoulder, “Thanks for the invite, Eli. I’ll stay longer next time.”
Eli’s laughter fades away behind us, the conversation closing around our wake.
The momentum carries us through the lobby and out the main entrance. Usually, Eli prefers to go out through the side entrance—less chance of paparazzi—but we get lucky tonight. There’s nobody out here, just a gleaming black Bentley with a uniformed driver standing by the back door. Ace goes toward it at full speed, pulling me along behind him, and at the last moment the driver swings the door open. “Four Seasons,” he says, and the driver, a stocky dark-eyed man, nods. Is there a glint in his eyes? Hard to tell in the dark.
The leather seats are cool and smooth. The driver closes the door and jogs around to the front, but before he can open his door, Ace’s hand is on my cheek, turning me to face him.
Our eyes lock again, his gray eyes stormy in the low light in the back of his car, and I don’t wait for some awkward discussion. I don’t wait for anything at all. I lean in and I kiss him, hard, the way I wanted to when I saw him tonight.
He is not some gawky schoolboy anymore.