Page 4 of Only Ever His

I was used to the questions, the people clamoring to be seen with me, the thinly veiled agendas under every handshake.

Most were eager for any connection they could leverage. I would’ve left the second I fulfilled my obligation—until I saw her.

Tori Blake.

The way she moved in the crowded room was different from anyone else.

She was quiet, blending in with the servers as she passed trays of drinks, her steps graceful, her gaze fixed straight ahead.

It was almost as if she was there on a mission of her own.

Not a single person had caught her attention, and she definitely hadn’t paid any attention to me.

She didn’t have that look of greed, of calculation, that so often crossed faces when people knew who I was.

I’d watched her for half the evening, noting the way she sidestepped the attention.

The guarded light in her eyes that suggested she was more comfortable on the fringes.

She wore a fitted black dress, simple but elegant, setting off her curves and hinting at the strength beneath that quiet, focused expression.

When I’d tried to approach her at the party, she’d disappeared before I could even say hello.

But the mystery of her haunted me, had me rethinking my flight back to Seattle the next day.

I’d asked a few subtle questions, and by the end of the night, I had a name—and I knew exactly where to find her boutique.

So, two days later, I found myself outside Velvet & Lace, Oakridge Bay’s answer to a high-end clothing boutique.

A small shop, filled with clothes that somehow managed to bridge elegance and comfort with a touch of class.

My kind of place. The kind of place that Tori Blake had clearly poured herself into.

I pushed the door open, and the bell jingled, sounding more cheerful than I felt.

As I stepped in, I saw her behind the counter, busying herself with some paperwork.

She looked up, and in that instant, I was caught all over again.

She didn’t smile. Just gave me a polite nod, her eyes flicking over me as if assessing whether I was worth her time or not.

It was like nothing I’d experienced before. Most women I encountered weren’t shy about their interest.

Tori? She seemed utterly uninterested. I gave her my best smile.

“Good morning,” I said, keeping my voice warm, friendly.

“Morning,” Tori greeted.

She looked back at her paperwork, clearly intent on ignoring me. But that only made me want her attention more.

The silence stretched, charged in a way I hadn’t expected. I could feel the layers beneath her calm exterior, the walls she’d built.

But I also saw something in her eyes, a glint of wariness that sparked my curiosity, a flicker of a past she didn’t want exposed.

Someone had hurt her.

I could almost feel it in the way she held herself, guarded and composed, as if expecting some unspoken threat.

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