Page 47 of Coldhearted King

That last bit makes me flinch, and his hand drops away.

“Think about it and give me your answer before we leave the gala tonight. If you say yes, I won’t wait until we get back to the hotel to start. Do you understand?”

I am way out of my league with this man. I want to scream at the driver to pull over right now so I can get naked and rub myself all over him. I want to unbutton his pristine white shirt and kiss a trail down his skin until I can unzip his pants and take him into my mouth. I want to pull my dress up my thighs and slide onto him. I want to experience everything my body and his can do together. After having a taste of just how amazing sex can be, then being disappointed with my physical relationship with Paul, I just want to feel it all over again.

But instead of doing any of that, I force out two words. “I understand.”

Cole stares out the window and I sit in stunned silence, trying to figure out exactly what I should do. I could whip out my phone and message Alex, but I don’t want to interrupt her time with Jaxson. Plus, I already know what her advice will be. Something along the lines of, “Ride ’em, cowgirl.”

I’m mercifully distracted from the overwhelming chaos in my mind when we approach the hotel. The building is lit up, with an honest to goodness red carpet out front. Photographers stand on each side, snapping photos of the people walking on it.

“I didn’t realize this was such a big event,” I murmur.

“Some of the richest people in the US are here tonight,” Cole says. “And people with that kind of wealth and power want to make sure everyone sees them.”

I turn to look at him. “Do you go to many of these?”

“Usually it’s Roman or my father.” The line of his jaw sharpens. “Or it used to be, anyway.”

I consider asking him about his father, about how he feels about what happened, but I don’t have the time—or probably the courage—because our car is pulling up to the red carpet.

The driver gets out and opens the door on Cole’s side.

“Ready?” Cole asks.

I’m not, but I nod anyway. He steps out, then turns to hold out his hand for me. I take it, feeling completely overwhelmed as he tucks it into his elbow, and we start down the red carpet. Camera flashes from both sides dazzle me, and I hear voices calling out to Cole.

“Mr. King, who’s your date tonight?”

“Mr. King, who’s your date wearing?”

“Mr. King, how do you respond to rumors that investors have lost confidence in the King Group following the arrest of your father?”

What the hell kind of question is that at this kind of event?

The muscles in Cole’s arm tighten, and I peer at the group of mostly photographers standing to the side. Two or three people hold microphones, attempting to ask the attendees questions, but I can’t tell which of them asked about his dad. Cole doesn’t answer anyway. His expression appears completely inscrutable, but I’m close enough to detect the faintest tic in his jaw.

Curling my fingers around his bicep, I squeeze it reassuringly. He looks down at me, surprise lightening his eyes. One corner of his mouth kicks up for a millisecond, and then he’s looking straight ahead again as we approach the large open doorway.

Now that we’ve mostly finished with the photographers and reporters, I can relax and take in the lobby as we enter. It’s beautiful, with gleaming marble floors and soaring ceilings adorned with sparkling chandeliers. The ballroom where the gala is being held is equally impressive. It’s a huge space, featuring intricate moldings, mirrored accents, and even more extravagant chandeliers. A table with various objects placed on it runs down the side of the room. Cole had mentioned a silent auction, so it must be for that.

“It’s an amazing space,” I murmur, my gaze roaming over the ornate ceiling.

“It is.”

I smile up at him. Does he actually seem...relaxed? The tension from before seems to have gone, and something akin to a spark of warmth resides in his gaze.

“I like watching you looking at architecture,” he says.

I cock my head. “Why?”

“Your eyes light up, and your whole body becomes animated.”

“Oh.” Warmth unfolds in my chest. That was the last thing I expected to hear from him.

His gaze holds mine. “Your passion is a beautiful thing.”

My breath catches in my throat as something shimmers in the air between us—a connection I never would have believed possible. And yet, it’s there.

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