Page 81 of Locked In Ice

“Because I don’t profile friends.”

Friends.An F word that he hadn’t expected to hear from her.“Is that what we are?”

“Yes.Turns out, my cat isn’t the only one who likes you.”

“We’re…friends.”The word tasted wrong.Wasn’t strong enough.Didn’t define them.“Friends don’t usually fuck.”

“Put it all out there, don’t you?”Ophelia continued her path down the stairs.“We do.”She stopped.Seventh stair.It creaked.“Unless you don’t want to be friends with me?”

And there was something almost sad about her words.Vulnerable.

“I would very much like to be friends with you.”A low response from him.

She glanced back and sent him a wide smile.

Then she was gone.

He stared after her.Considered the possibilities that waited.

But we won’t just be friends, Ophelia.We will be so much more.

No, he could never, ever just be friends with her.

Chapter Sixteen

“You look dashing.”He did.Or, more accurately, Lane looked dead sexy.

They were dancing at the engagement party, he wore a tux that fit him like it had been made just for his body, and Ophelia was pretty sure that most of the women in that ballroom were imagining what Lane’s body would look likewithoutthe tux.

Luckily, she didn’t have to imagine.

His hands tightened on her waist.“You look beautiful.”His head lowered.His lips came to rest near her ear.“The sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

Her breath caught.Mostly because he’d just given a sensual lick to the tip of her ear.“You, ah, like the red?’Sure, black was her favorite color, but she’d switched things up.Gone a bold red.A dress with spaghetti straps that hugged her curves and ended mid-thigh.A dress that screamed…

Come and get me.

She wanted to attract attention—Gerald’s attention.If he was there, she wanted him to see her.To come after her.

And to leave Isabelle the hell alone.The woman was happy.Beaming as she stood with her groom, August Wade.They were the picture of a loving couple.

And her jerk ex wasn’t going to ruin that for them.

The band played a slow, romantic tune, and as Lane swept her around the dance floor, Ophelia made sure to study everyone in the room.Right after arriving, she’d given orders to the security staff.They already had received pictures of Gerald, but, as she’d told Lane, men like Gerald were extremely good at reinventing themselves.The staff knew that if they saw anything suspicious, they were to alert her, immediately.

“So, ah, how did your afternoon reading go?”Ophelia asked, hoping she sounded casual as she eased her head back and peeked up at Lane.

“You didn’t tell me you tried to save him.”

Her steps stumbled.But he kept moving, gliding her effortlessly.“Where did you learn to dance?”she asked.“You are really light on your feet.”

“It wasn’t in the foster homes.Most of the people there hated me.”

Her heart squeezed.“Not all of them, surely.”

“They hated me,” he said again.“They thought I was a ticking time bomb.They wanted me gone.”A twisted curve of his lips.“Different families tried to keep Lark.They wanted to make a home for her.”

“But no one wanted to make a home for you?”A careful whisper.Her heart wasn’t squeezing.It was breaking.For him.

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