Page 98 of Underground Prince

“But with a caveat,” I said, my voice rough. “You won’t give meyou.”

He didn’t move away. “Everything else, you can have.”

“That’s the thing, Theo. You’d be leaving me with nothing.”

With the wind frosting my skin, I turned away. For once, Theo Saxon was not going to get what he desired. I was too afraid of the consequences if he did.

I looked over my shoulder, and there he stood, my greatest fear, my utmost desire, hands in his pockets as he let me walk away from him.

So instead of stepping in and returning to safety, I closed the space between us.

He remained immobile, the wind’s gentle fingers tangling his hair.

I said, “I’m going to fight for you.”

His hard angles went stark against the glass-walled buildings around us, but for an instant, his expression settled into such a look of sadness and sorrow that it had to feel familiar.

It would be so easy to mirror his mask and acknowledge our mutual loss. But doing so would admit that fighting for someone wasn’t worth the pain, and Theo’s natural glide into my life had me thinking that might not be true for me anymore.

Lifting the skirt of my dress, I turned back to the exit, and this time I went through.

* * *

“Where’d you get off to, hussy?” Kai whispered as I settled in beside him.

It wasn’t easy finding Kai in the ballroom, as everyone had located their tables and Kai and I hadn’t bothered to target ours before mingling. It didn’t help that the speeches had already started and I was the sole wandering beanpole, a tall sprout against all the seated flowers as I whispered, “Excuse me, pardon me, sorry,” through the packed space.

At long last, I spotted him, only a few tables away from center stage.

“Theo and I had some things to discuss,” I said to my lap as I smoothed out my dress. My poor, no longer innocent rental couture.

“Uh huh,” Kai replied. “Was that before or after the orgasm written all over your face?”

“Kai,” I whisper-screeched, shoving him.

Fellow guests at our table glanced over at us and I sank into my chair, humiliated. We were at an extravagant place. I had the duty to be an extravagant person.

“Not my fault you can’t keep it in your pants,” he said, brushing at his sleeve where I wished I’d punched him instead of shoved him.

“I hate you,” I hissed.

He air-kissed me back.

“And now, if you could all welcome our prestigious host of tonight, the extraordinarily giving founder of the Gordon W. Saxon Foundation, the namesake himself. Please give him a round of applause.”

The room rippled and echoed with claps and whistles as Gordon Saxon stood up from his seat on the stage, facing the crowd, and took the podium. His wife sat regally on stage as well, as did…the rest of his family. Somehow Theo had made it up there without me noticing, seated between his mother and Trace. A third man who had to be Ward sat on the other side of Trace, because they all shared the same coloring, hair with a coppery undertone, sun-warmed skin and a carved bone structure that could only come from their father.

Theo clapped mechanically along, as did I.

“Good evening, honored guests and associates,” Gordon’s voice boomed, a rich, overflowing baritone that silenced the applause and nabbed our attention. “I can’t tell you how much it means to have both your presence and your wallets at my gala.” The audience tittered. “But we’re here for a very important cause, the continued education of not only our children, but those across the globe. Our future. And I’m proud to say as you enjoy your meal tonight that your contributions, along with the silent auction currently ongoing in the Salon next door, have raised well over two-point-five million dollars.”

The room roared with applause, and I couldn’t help but follow, but I wondered just how much of that money was going to the children.

The rest of Gordon’s speech was vanilla, with a few pops of humor to ease into the audience. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d say Kai was a liar and that Gordon was the nicest, handsomest man on the planet. He certainly acted the part, and as he continued to speak, his words faded out of my mind as I attempted to picture him mean. To my surprise, it didn’t take much. The lines around his eyes and mouth, jovial at first glance, were so deep that they could morph into a frown with a mere tic. And that baritone voice could issue threats as simply as it granted praise.

But Theo.

I couldn’t forget him as easily as I could dismiss these people, this world.

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