Page 10 of The Art of Loving You

Before he could respond, I closed the distance, pressing my lips to his. When I pulled back, his expression was a mixture of surprise and something deeper—something that sent a thrill through me.

“Tell the captain to take us back,” I murmured, my fingers tracing his jaw. “I think we have somewhere else to be.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Lucas

"Welcome to my world," I said, stepping aside to let Ella in.

She barely heard me, her attention caught by the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the Miami skyline. “Lucas… this is stunning.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her take in the view. She stood there, breathtaking in a simple black dress, her dark hair swept into an updo that highlighted the elegant curve of her neck.

“Wait until you see the rest,” I murmured, stepping beside her.

Her lips curved into a smile. “This is… wow.”

"Drink?" I asked, moving to the bar.

She turned, still marveling at the city lights reflecting against the ocean. “A brandy would be perfect.”

I poured two snifters of Louis XIII Cognac, catching the way her fingers brushed mine as I handed her the glass.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops,” she teased.

“For you? Always.”

Ella took a slow sip, eyes drifting to the paintings lining the walls. “Your collection is beautiful.”

“Each piece has a story,” I said, watching as she studiedMiami Skyline at Dusk.

“This one…” she trailed off, stepping closer. “It feels alive like it’s capturing the city’s heartbeat.” The way she saw things, deeper than surface level, always captivated me. “You have tight security for all this, right?” she asked.

I smirked, gesturing to the discreet cameras. “Always. No one gets in without my say-so.”

“Good,” she said lightly. “It’d be a shame if anything happened to them.”

“To art or to you?” I asked, raising my glass. “You are always safe with me.”

She clinked hers against mine, amusement flickering in her gaze.

As I adjusted the sound system, a low saxophone melody curled through the air. The golden glow of the accent lights softened the space, casting shadows that danced along the walls.

I set my glass down. “Dance with me.”

Ella raised an eyebrow. “Dance?”

“It’s tradition. Drinks, music, and at least one dance.”

She hesitated, but then, with a playful sigh, she set her glass on a side table and slid her hand into mine.

"Fine," she said. "But if you’re terrible, I will laugh at you."

“I’ll take my chances.”

I guided her toward the open space near the windows. The warmth of her hand in mine sent a ripple of desire through me, and when I rested my other hand lightly on her waist, I felt her breath hitch.

We swayed to the rhythm, her body fitting against mine effortlessly.

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