Page 31 of Only for Tonight
“Don’t.” His fingers trace over one gently, possessive. “I like everyone knowing you’re taken.”
“Taken?” My voice comes out breathless.
Taken. He said taken.
“For the weekend at least.” He grins, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. “Unless you want to extend the arrangement. Come on, convention’s already started.”
We pass through the entrance into the main convention space, and it’s overwhelming. Booths everywhere, banners hanging from the ceiling, the buzz of excited readers filling the air.
“Rebecca!”
I turn. Luca’s at a booth, shirtless photos of him on book covers displayed. Women are already gathering.
Of course they are. Look at him.
Leo steers us over. “Busy already, mate?”
“Can you blame them?” Luca grins, then his eyes land on me with clear heat. “Well, look at you, beautiful. That dress should be illegal.”
“That’s what I said,” Leo agrees.
Luca’s gaze drops to my neck. His grin widens. “Nice accessories.”
I flush. “Luca?—”
“Own it.” He winks. “You look amazing. Have fun at the panels. I’ll catch you later?”
As we walk away, Leo leans in close. “He’s going to be insufferable all day now because he’s thinking about tonight. Just like I am.”
Tonight. Oh god, tonight.
We find the panel room for James’s talk and settle into the third row. Leo’s arm goes around the back of my chair immediately, his fingers playing with my hair.
“You nervous?” he asks.
“A little. This is surreal.”
“Which part? The convention or the fact that you spent last night getting ruined by three men?”
“Leo!” I hiss, looking around to make sure no one heard.
He laughs. “Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t help myself.”
The lights dim and James walks out onto the stage in the dark grey button-up I watched him put on this morning, with the sleeves rolled. His eyes scan the audience and stop on me. The smile is subtle but unmistakable. A small smile just for me before he turns to the moderator.
He sees me. He knows I’m here.
James talks about his craft, about finding emotional truth in characters, and his voice fills the room in that deep, smooth way that’s absolutely mesmerizing. But there’s an edge to it today. An intensity. When he demonstrates how to narrate an intimate scene, his eyes find mine in the audience and hold. It feels like he’s narrating directly to me, like every word is a reminder of last night.
“The key is making the listener feel like they’re the only person in the world,” he says, voice dropping into that register that makes my toes curl. “Like every word is meant just for them.”
That voice. God, that voice.
I shift in my seat, pressing my thighs together. My face is burning.
Leo notices, because of course he does. His hand drops to my thigh and squeezes, fingers digging in possessively. “Behave, sweetheart. We’re in public.” But his voice is rough with approval. “Though I don’t blame you. He’s doing that on purpose. Making you squirm.”
“Is he always like this at panels?” I whisper.
