Page 107 of One Wrong Move

My breath seizes inside my lungs.

“Nate,” I whisper. Nestled on pearlescent velvet is a diamond necklace. The gems glitter in the light. Dangling off the brilliant stand are several pendants. At the center of each is an emerald, but it’s surrounded by a small row of diamonds that enhance the deep green sparkle.

It’s the kind of necklace classic movie stars would wear. Millionaire heiresses. Royalty.

“I called the store attendant after you left,” Nate says. “She mentioned you chose a green dress. So I picked out a matching necklace.”

I reach out a tentative finger and run it over the stunning display. “You got it on loan?”

“It’s not a loan. Turn around, Harp.”

I do, and catch the sight of us in the mirror. Him in his tux, standing behind me. Me in my green silk dress.

Nate brushes my hair to the side, baring my back, and places the necklace around my neck. It’s heavy and cold, and the green perfectly compliments my strapless gown.

I feel his fingers against my nape as he closes the clasp.

“Nate,” I say again. “I’ve never worn anything this beautiful.”

He runs a hand over my ponytail, pulling the strands back into position. His fingers wrap around the mass. “I’ve never seen your hair straight before,” he murmurs.

I try to meet his gaze in the mirror. But he’s not looking at me. His eyes are fixed on the ponytail in his hand. “I don’t straighten it often. It’s so much work.”

“I can imagine,” he says hoarsely. “Your curls are all gone. They’re beautiful.”

I chuckle weakly. “They’ll be back. A shower or some inconvenient rain is all it takes.”

“Mm-hmm.” He clears his throat and lets the tresses fall. “Let’s go, if you’re ready.”

“I am.”

I keep touching the necklace the entire way down the stairs and out to the car he’d hired for the night. I don’t want to ask how many carats it is. I don’t want to know how much this is worth. It’s just a loan, and it’s just for tonight. No, I just want to live in this moment, as fully as I can, so I can continue to relive it later when it’s over.

Nate opens the car door for me. “Not driving yourself tonight?” I ask.

He looks rueful. “No. I contemplated it, but… I do want to have a drink. Or two.”

“Good,” I say. “You’re fun when you drink.”

His eyes linger on mine, and the awareness sparks there at the same time I realize what happened the last time he’d been drinking. When I had, too.

Us, making out in the dark hallway of the house at our backs.

We haven’t kissed since then. We’d done… other things… while stranded at the inn, and then in the luxurious heat of his bathroom.

But we haven’t kissed.

“Get in the car,” he nearly growls.

My lips tug into a smile. “Yes, sir.”

We ride in silence to Leicester Square and the movie theater—the cinema—that’s hosting the premiere. I glance at Nate out of the corner of my eye. I’ve seen him dressed to the nines before. I’ve also had breakfast atop a London skyscraper while he wore a rumpled tux and didn’t give two shits about it. But something about seeing him in one again, now after… after so much has transpired between us, hammers home the point of just who he is. How different our worlds are.

I’d forgotten how imposing he really is. How wealthy. But here I am, wearing a necklace that’s probably worth more than the combined GDP of several small nations, and heading to an event where more than money is needed to get through the door.

Nate’s phone buzzes, and he offers a quiet sorry to me before answering. I listen to the tone of his voice and look out the window at the city as we pass by. He also sounds different with others than when he’s just with me.

“No, not that week. The week after can work. … No, I’m not. … It’s a good idea. … Are you taking the company plane?”

---