Alone. At last.
I weave through the bright hallways, fists clenching in the cloth of my gown. Tchaikovsky’s piano concerto becomes muffled the farther I rush away from the noise, leaving all the pretentious smiles of the party behind.
Finally, I find a patio at the end of the third storey of the mansion and release the hem of my long, dark blue mermaid dress. Courtesy of my father’s assistant – because I need to look my best for his friends’ gathering.
Soft light shines in the vast patio that overlooks some of London’s buildings in the distance. I lean against the marble railing and breathe in the fresh air. Goosebumps form on my bare arms due to the night’s chill.
I missed London, my birthplace, my home and where everything started. I lived here for twenty-four years. Then, after my mum’s death three years ago, I left for New York.
For a damn good reason – like running away from those dark eyes that haunt my dreams.
I returned a week ago because my father’s business is suffering. When I said I would help, I meant using my degree in business management and the experience I gained in Manhattan. My father’s idea of me helping him is apparently parading me around in these gatherings and arranging blind dates with possible investors’ sons.
Today’s candidate kept talking to his mother more than me. Actually, when I told him he looked good out of courtesy, he said, ‘Mother chooses my suits. Of course, I would look good.’
The moment he asked his mother if he should offer me a drink is when enough was enough and I ran here.
It would be so easy to stop this nonsense and go back to New York, but my father is the only family I have left. I already abandoned him when I decided to go right after Mum’s funeral. I was running from many things then, but now, I can’t let him struggle alone.
He always supported me and respected my choices. I have to stand by his side, too, but not through a marriage of convenience. I doubt my father wants that, but in his desperation, getting a rich investor through marriage seems like the most likely choice. Sophie, his assistant, has been organising many blind dates, hoping one of them would be to my liking.
No one will.
No matter how accomplished or good looking they are, they don’t even stand a chance. I was already ruined three years ago.
Then, I fled to the other side of the ocean. As if that would help me forget.
I shake those thoughts away and check my phone for the market’s report then move on to my emails.
Goodness. The financial team’s reports of my father’s company are tragic. It won’t be long before he has to announce bankruptcy. I told him not to invest in that shady stock company, but he has good faith in people and never thought they would scam him.
Even if I have a magic wand, I wouldn’t be able to prevent this. I bite the inside of my cheek until I almost break the skin and taste blood. Does this mean marriage is the only solution?
I love my father too much to see him fall down in his old years.
“Eva.” A low, smooth voice rasps from behind me. Heat radiates down my back, despite the freezing air.
Arthur.
My pulse skyrockets and my skin prickles, knowing it’s him without even having to turn around. A tremor shoots through my limbs, and I clutch the railing in a death grip to remain standing.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why is hearing him say my name in that deep, rumbling voice enough to send my heart into havoc?
He’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’ve written him off years ago.
I purse my lips and turn around, locking everything inside. Since our families belong to the same circle, it was only a matter of time that we meet again. I’ve only been biding my time, secretly contemplating how to run away before having to confront him.
That isn’t an option anymore.
My breath hitches when I meet his intense dark eyes – they’re as pitch-black as the night surrounding us with no break of colour between his irises and pupils. His ink black hair is slicked back, showcasing a sharp jawline and thick eyebrows. Add a tailored tuxedo, and he’s a piece cut from the darkness.
He’s so tall, I have to crane my neck to look at him. Over the years, his shoulders have broadened and his chest muscles have expanded. Despite the intimidating demeanour, his eyes rake over me with deep longing and possessiveness, but also surprise as if he’s not believing I’m actually standing in front of him.
A strange awareness takes hold of me at his closeness. He’s already barged into my personal space and is making me breathe his head-turning cedar scent. If he leans over, my lips would meet his.
Do they still taste as forbidden as sin?
“You’re back,” Arthur says with a sense of astonishment that knots my insides. If only I could reach out and run my fingers through his hair.
Goodness. Get it together, woman.
I puff my chest forward and adopt my no-nonsense tone. “It’s not what you think. I only returned to help my father, Your Lordship.”
A line settles between his eyebrows. “I told you not to call me that.”
“What makes you think I remember anything you said?” I do. Oh, how much I do. I’ve been fighting those memories for three long years, but I never managed to purge them out.
Arthur doesn’t need to know that, though, so I continue in my neutral tone, “Besides, you’re a duke’s son, that’s all I can call you.”
His long, lean fingers reach for me, raking up my arms in a sensual caress until tingles erupt in their wake. Although the most logical solution is to yank my arm and run, energy rushes through me and roots my feet in place. Despite the cold, my skin heats and goosebumps erupt on the surface. Just like those years ago, all he has to do is touch me and my body and mind become enchanted to him.
That’s why he’s too dangerous for me.
“You’re stunning tonight.” His cool voice drifts around me causing a shiver to draw up my spine. “You always are.”
You, too. Instead, I say, “Let go.”
“Is that all you have to say after all this time?”
“L-let me go, Arthur.” My whisper doesn’t even convince my own ears.
He shakes his head, a small smile curves his lips. “Not until you face it.”
“Face what?”
“This. Us.” His strong hand clasps around mine, and he pulls me close. My breasts flush against his hard chest as my other palm lands on his shoulder for balance. “You can’t deny this connection between us.”
My breaths turn shallow, and my body moulds to his like it’s always belonged there.
He’s right. There’s a spark, a flame that couldn’t be extinguished even during all these years. That’s why I left – and that’s why I need to leave now.
Once again, he will lure me in, then abandon me. I can’t be that woman anymore.
I’m about to push him away when Arthur’s lips crash to mine. I gasp in his mouth, and he dives right in. He doesn’t ask for permission nor does he take it slow – that’s not Arthur’s style.
He pries my lips apart and feasts on my tongue like he’s a starved man finally getting his meals. My legs weaken at the passionate ferocity of his kiss and I can’t resist it anymore.
I can’t resist him. I never could.
My fingers thread into his thick, soft hair and I pull on the strands as I kiss him back. I’m lost in the sensation, in his body heat against mine. In his strong hands, surrounding my waist possessively. In his head-turning scent and these lips I’ve been dreaming about for years.
I’m mindless, delirious, and I can feel myself getting lost in his maze again, but to my horror, a part of me has no wish to be found.
Not now. Not ever.
He pulls me closer into him, his hands roaming all over my body. An unmistakable bulge rubs against my lower stomach, and my own desire shoots between my thighs.
No. This is wrong. I left all this for a reason and he’s trying to draw me back in.
It takes all my willpower to step back. I’m breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in quick succession.
Arthur’s eyes darken further as he clutches my hand in his, refusing to let me go. As if he can’t, or won’t be able to..
“Eva.” The breathless whisper of my name coming out of his lips knocks the air out of my lungs.
I’m falling again. I’m being thrown into Arthur’s dilemma.
“Stop saying my name that way.” I yank my hand free. “Not after what you did.”
“What I did?” That line settles back between his brows, a murderous shadow swirls in the black of his eyes. He’s pissed off. Brilliant. Let him feel an ounce of what he put me through.
“You’re the one who left me, Eva.”
“After you made me!” I hit his chest, tears of self-loathing barging into my eyes. Why couldn’t I just erase him? Why am I falling into his trap again, unable to stay away?
“I begged you to stay.” His expression turns sombre as his most fearsome part emerges. Anger, pure and lethal. He rarely shows that emotion, but when he does, it’s better to run the other way. “For the first time in my life, I begged someone, but you still left.”
A bitter smile leaves me. “Is that why you’re angry? Because someone told the mighty Arthur Rhodes no for once?”
“You know that’s not it.” He reaches for me again, but I hold a hand up.
“No. I don’t want to hear it. I’m returning to Manhattan soon, so let’s pretend this never happened.”
A gleam shines in the depth of his eyes. “We will see about that.”
“Arthur,” I warn. If he sets a goal, nothing will stop him. “Just leave me alone.”
He removes his jacket, and his muscles flex against the fitted dress shirt. With infinite care, he leans to place the jacket on my shoulders.
His lips find my ear, and he whispers in hot sultry words. “Never, Eva.”
