Page 45 of Deny Me
A frown replaced the lust glinting in Arthur’s eyes. “What response was that?”
Elliot bent toward him as if imparting a secret. “I filleted him.”
Monica wheeled back frantically, dragging Arthur with her. The two stared at Elliot, the whites of their eyes prominent, as they hurried away. Deacon tucked Elliot back beneath his arm, his chuckle indulgent. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
Elliot bumped him with a hip. “Or you can take me everywhere. At least you don’t have to worry about fending for yourself.”
Wes and Charlotte were hiding amusement behind their hands. Hugh laughed out loud. King glanced at his aunt and uncle, wondering what they thought of the scene. The pair stared warily at Elliot, seeming unsure if they should take her threat seriously.
They should, but he didn’t intend to tell them that. “I apologize—”
Warren held up a hand. “My brother takes things too far sometimes.”
That was an understatement, but whatever.
“But it was good to see you nonetheless, boy.” Warren reached for his hand again, gave it a firm shake. “Hopefully it won’t be so long next time.”
Christy smiled vaguely, and the two made their exit. King couldn’t take his gaze off their backs until they disappeared around the staircase.
“You always did have great taste in friends,” Hugh said, eyeing Elliot. When Deacon narrowed his gaze on the man, Hugh blanched. “I’ll… I’ll be seeing you later?”
The question didn’t have a specific recipient, and none of them bothered to answer as Hugh scurried away. “And you think I’m bad?” Elliot muttered up at her fiancé. “I had to threaten to pull a weapon. You just gave him a look.”
Deacon shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve got talent.”
Charlotte’s laugh shook her body against King. He latched on to the sound and to her, allowing her amusement to cleanse his palate of the bitterness trying to take root. His parents didn’t deserve that kind of space in his life, and he refused to allow them an in.
“I believe it’s almost time for the opening remarks,” Wes said. “Charlotte?”
She nodded, pulling King forward with her as they moved to the ballroom at the back of the house.
The director for the Magnolia Ball committee already stood on a temporary dais opposite the entrance, set against a wall of windows that looked out on the Swan House gardens—large open areas set around a series of fountains, with an expanse of woods at the bottom of the lawn skirted by a stone wall and columns. King surveyed the view as he escorted Charlotte to one side of the dais. Elliot and Deacon split off to make their way to the opposite side of the stage, watching over Charlotte from there. Saint, unseen, would be waiting and watching beyond the windows.
Charlotte was covered from every side.
“And we are pleased to announce a substantial donation to an organization that strives to help the very smallest members of our community, and has for many years. Here to receive this generous donation is founder and director of Creating Families, Charlotte Alexander.”
King tensed instinctively as Charlotte left his side. Their enemy would prepare well, he knew, so the likelihood that an attack would come now, here, in the middle of a crowded ballroom, was low. That didn’t stop his body’s protest at the distance between them.
And yet his ears refused to take in the words of her acceptance speech. There had been far too many moments this week where his past Charlotte, the one he’d known intimately, had collided with now Charlotte, a woman whose maturity and poise and dedication he’d seen the seeds of but missed the growth. None of those moments compared to now, when the woman Charlotte had become overwhelmed him, not just with all that she was, but with how much he wanted her. He’d never allowed himself to consider what returning to her might be like, but God, he wanted to. With a fierceness that went beyond anything he’d ever thought he could feel, he wanted her.
She walked back across the dais toward him, and when she met his eyes and smiled…
“Everything okay, cousin?”
King had forgotten Wes was standing next to him. He dropped the hand he abruptly realized was pressing against the ache in his chest. “Of course. Just fine.”
He even let Wes assist Charlotte down the steps—to prove to himself that it was all a fluke, that he was imagining things? If that was the case, the sharp flare of jealousy at the sight of Wes’s hand taking Charlotte’s blew that delusion to pieces.
King rubbed a hard hand down his face, wishing he could wipe away all these emotions as easily.
Charlotte glanced up and read him as easily as she had when they’d been engaged. “What’s wrong?”
He forced a smile for Wes’s benefit. “Just a bit close in here.” The crowd earned a glance, then, “How about a stroll outside?”
Charlotte passed the check in her hand to Wes. “Take care of this?”
“I will.”
