Page 32 of The Lawyer
No. Dancing is where this will stop.
At least for me.
As I make the decision, I feel the euphoria from a few moments ago slip away. My fingers grip onto Landon’s shoulder for a moment longer, and then I lean into his ear. “Excuse me.”
I dip my head and navigate through the guests still dancing and enjoying the party. As soon as our connection is lost, the rest of the room crashes back around my senses and forces me to retreat to get some air.
Luckily, I’ve been around these rooms a dozen times today, so I steer myself to a quiet bar that exits onto a patio section at the back of the house. I snatch a glass of champagne as I pass and break free into the night.
It’s quieter here. Darker, with only a slice of light illuminating my surroundings. I take a few steps forward, seeking the darkness, and perch on the stone wall. Staircases lead off into the grounds from both flanks, and I’m tempted to slink into the shadows and call it a night. It would certainly be safer.
“What happened?” Landon steps from the warm glow of light. He’s followed me, and my heart makes a horrid thrumming in my chest in response.
“Oh, nothing. Shoes.” I slip my heels off and brace my feet on the cold stone.
Landon puts his hand out for me, and I take it, cautiously rising to my now not-so-tall height. His eyes track my every movement before he takes the champagne from my hand and drinks down a sip himself.
From this position, looking up at him, he’s more intimidating—more desirable, if that’s even possible—and I quickly break our contact and sit back down on the wall. Feeling small or vulnerable isn’t something I’m familiar with. I’m not that woman, and while it has an edge of appeal, I recognise the warnings—I could get hurt in this situation.
“I can’t believe this is your place.” I change the subject, desperate for a breather.
“It’s hardly the penthouse. It’s an ancient relic in some ways. Touted out for grand occasions," he says, standing beside me. "It’s not what I want in the slightest.”
“Do you have other siblings here?” I keep up with the questions and hope I can recapture the professional balance.
“Yes. Neve is … somewhere. My youngest sister is in Paris.”
“Wow, that explains some of it.”
He takes a seat on the wall beside me. “Of what?” he says curtly.
“Why you’re the way you are. Three sisters.” My smile is back, and I glance to my side to watch him, already seeing the traits that I was referring to in his drawn down brow.
“And how am I?” The question seems so personal. Private.
I think back to all the dances, moves or costumes I've worn for him. Foreplay comes in a variety of forms. Listening to his voice when he speaks directly to me seems to be one form that connects right to my gut, making my insides twist deliciously.
“Bossy. Demanding. Controlling.” Looking up through my lashes, I emphasise every adjective. He's all of those things, and yet I can't help finding creative visions on how best he could demonstrate those traits.
We stay, almost lost in a moment that stretches past the bundle of seconds it makes up until he snaps us back to the now by looking away. “Do you have any siblings?”
I clear my throat. “Yes. A brother. Ash. He’s a handful.” I lean back and look away, too, both of us gazing into the gloom. “He’s six years younger than me but acts like a child. I’m forever picking up after him.”
“He lives with you.” Landon has a way of making statements rather than asking questions.
“Yep. Why move out when it’s his home, too? Mum and Dad died when we were younger. It’s his house as much as mine. Although, he treats it as a hotel.”
“I don’t think you ever stop worrying about your siblings,” he says, sighing. His voice is filled with understanding, and I wonder if he feels the same way, worrying about his sisters as I do towards Ash. However, his parents are still very much around. It must be different, growing up in a family of money.
“I try not to worry and tell myself that he’s a grown man. He’s not my responsibility, at least not anymore. But it doesn’t work.” I pause, thinking about how different our lives might have been if Mum and Dad were still around. “But he doesn’t have anyone else. Who would look out for him if I don’t?” I turn and look directly at him as if he can provide me with the answers.
God, this conversation is far too serious.
“Wow. That put a damper on the mood. Drinks?” I ask as I go to stand. He steadies me as I do. It’s stupid. I’m not even in heels.
“I doubt we need more alcohol.” He puts his hands in his pockets and looks me over. “Follow me,” he says, heading for a staircase to the right.
Swiping my heels as I go, I trail after him into the grounds. “Landon, where are we going?” The cold stone and pebbles are harsh on my feet, and I force him to slow so I can put my heels back on.
