Page 24 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis (In The Heart of A Valentine #17)

Chapter

Sixteen

CHRISTIAN

It had been two weeks since the trip to Tuscany, and I was counting down the minutes until I saw her again.

I stood in the grand ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton, nursing a glass of Brandy and watching St. Louis’s elite network over canapés and champagne.

The Children’s Hospital benefit was always well-attended, and in high-society being seen mattered as much as the cause itself.

I’d written my check, made small talk with the hospital board, and now I was counting the minutes until I could politely escape.

Not because I didn’t care about the charity, but because it was Saturday, one of our nights, and I was looking forward to getting to her.

The ballroom was decorated in autumn elegance, with deep maroon and gold accents, and centerpieces of orange roses and twisted branches.

The soft lighting made everyone look ten years younger and twice as important.

A jazz quartet played in the corner, their music an addition to the hum of conversation and the gentle clink of crystal glasses.

I was half-listening to a discussion about healthcare policy when I saw her.

Naomi walked through the entrance like she owned the place.

The black gown she wore was a masterpiece of understated elegance, strapless, fitted against her torso before flowing into a silky skirt.

Her hair was pulled back in a sophisticated updo that showed off the graceful line of her neck, and diamond earrings sparkled every time she turned her head.

She was stunning. Breathtakingly so. And I wondered what she was doing here when I remembered her telling me she was unavailable for this evening.

The pieces fell together in an instant. She had business to attend to, or maybe it wasn’t.

Naomi and I held no titles so this could very well be a personal evening for her and the thought of that made my gut clench.

She laughed at something the man beside her had said.

Nathan Bullard. I recognized him immediately with his silver hair, expensive suit, a confident smile. He was also one of my biggest competitors in the sports law arena, the bastard who’d tried to poach three of my clients last year.

That, however, wasn’t what made jealousy spin inside me.

It was the way Naomi’s hand rested on his arm, how she leaned in when he spoke, and the intimate bubble they seemed to exist in as they moved through the crowd.

This seemed less like the professional distance one would expect under a client arrangement. This was... more. Or maybe it was me.

I watched Nathan guide her to the bar, his hand settling possessively on the small of her back.

I watched her smile up at him as he ordered their drinks, her expression soft and engaged.

I watched him lean down to whisper something in her ear that made her laugh again, and even across the room her melodic voice tantalized me.

Then, Nathan reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. It was intimate, alluring, and just by the look of them you’d think they were in love.

Naomi didn’t pull away or redirect his attention. She smiled, tilted her head into his touch, and placed her hand over his heart. There was familiarity and comfort in every touch, and I could barely stand to watch more of it.

“Christian! There you are.”

Dahlia’s voice cut through my thoughts. I turned to find her approaching, resplendent in a deep russet gown that complemented her dark skin beautifully. Her smile was radiant, her eyes excitedly bright.

“Dahlia. You look incredible.”

“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.” She moved to my side, slipping her arm through mine. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing your evening. I bought a ticket last minute and thought I’d surprise you.”

“Not at all. I’m glad you’re here.”

And I was. I needed the distraction, but her presence didn’t dampen the jealously stirring inside me.

“Shall we find our table? I believe we’re seated with the mayor and his wife.”

“How did you know I wouldn’t have a date?”

“There wasn’t one on the calendar.”

I hadn’t thought about that. Updating my calendar was a daily occurrence that I did without second thoughts. It helped keep Dahila and I on track with my schedule and she was right, I hadn’t updated it because I’d decided to go alone.

“So you’re here to rescue your boss who couldn’t get a date? Tragic.”

She laughed as I smiled. “It would be tragic if I actually believed that.” She patted my arm. “But no, you don’t have a date because you likely didn’t ask anyone.”

“You’re half right.”

As we moved through the crowd, Naomi came into my view again. She was still attached to Nathan’s side. When she glanced around, her posture went rigid, her smile becoming fixed as her eyes met mine across the room.

For a moment, we stared at each other. Her lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across her features before she quickly masked it.

Nathan followed her gaze, his eyes landing on me. Curiosity settled in his eyes, and I worked overtime not to clench my jaw. He whispered something to Naomi, and her fake smile tightened even more.

“Christian Valentine,” Nathan called out, steering Naomi in our direction. He offered his hand, and I accepted it with a strong shake.

“Nathan Bullard. I didn’t know the vultures would be out tonight.”

A deep, malicious laugh boomed from him. Nathan and I had a history of professional rivalry that had occasionally turned personal when we’d gone after the same clients.

“I thought the same when I saw you across the room,” he said, “great minds think alike I suppose.”

“If you consider your mind great.”

More laughter shot from him, and I continued. “Seriously, it’s good to see you supporting children’s healthcare.”

“Among other things.” His smile was sharp as a blade. “This is my date for the evening, Naomi. Naomi, meet Christian Valentine—one of the city’s most... persistent attorneys.”

The word ‘persistent’ was an insult wrapped in politeness. Naomi’s hand tightened on Nathan’s arm, but her expression remained composed.

“Mr. Valentine,” she said, in that soft deep tone that made my heart throb. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The formality of her greeting stung more than Nathan’s dig. She was looking at me like I was a stranger, like we hadn’t spent countless hours learning every inch of each other’s bodies, like my name hadn’t been on her lips just two weeks ago in Tuscany.

“The pleasure’s mine,” I replied, letting my gaze linger on her face just long enough to make my meaning clear. “You look absolutely stunning this evening.”

Nathan’s grip on her arm tightened possessively, while Dahlia pressed closer to my side. But it was Naomi’s reaction I was watching for—the slight widening of her eyes, and her quick intake of breath.

“She does, doesn’t she?” Nathan agreed. “I’m the luckiest man in the room tonight.”

“And who’s this lovely creature?” Nathan’s attention shifted to Dahlia, his predator’s smile turning charming. “Don’t tell me Christian Valentine found someone who can keep up with him.”

Dahlia practically glowed under his attention. “Dahlia Morris. And I like to think I can keep him on his toes.”

“I’m sure you can,” Nathan chuckled. “In fact, I bet you could get him to do all sorts of things. Maybe even get him back to your place after this is over.”

Dahlia laughed. “Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

The innuendo charged the atmosphere, and I saw Naomi’s jaw clench almost imperceptibly. Her smile had become a mask, painted on and lifeless, but she didn’t say a word.

“Naomi’s equally talented at... motivation,” Nathan said, his hand sliding lower on her back. “Aren’t you, sweetheart? I have a feeling we’ll be having our own private celebration tonight.”

The possessive way he spoke about her, the casual assumption that she belonged to him for the evening, made my vision blur with rage. But it was Naomi’s lack of response that cut deepest. She stood there, beautiful and silent, letting Nathan stake his claim without a word of protest.

“Well,” I said, “I hope you both have a memorable evening.”

Nathan’s smile widened. “Oh, we will. Naomi always makes sure of that.”

The lights dimmed, and the master of ceremonies took the stage.

It was my cue to shift before I said something I would regret.

The moment was broken, the crowd flowing toward their tables, but the damage was done.

I’d seen Naomi with another man, and it had shattered something inside me I hadn’t even known could be broken.

I hardly heard any of the conversation surrounding me. Dahlia chatted easily with the other guests at our table, her hand occasionally finding mine, and her laughter warm.

My attention kept drifting across the room to where Naomi sat beside Nathan.

Watching them tortured my soul. Nathan had everything I wanted and couldn’t have.

Public affection and recognition. I was quickly coming to the realization that maybe I wasn’t that guy for her, and it was taking everything inside me to keep it together.

When the dancing started, I watched Nathan lead Naomi onto the floor. They moved together, his hand spanning her waist, her fingers resting on his shoulder.

“Dance with me?”

Dahlia’s voice pulled me back to the present. She was standing beside my chair, one hand extended, her expression hopeful.

“Of course.”

I led her onto the dance floor, pulling her into my arms as the band played a slow, romantic tune.

“You seem distracted tonight,” she murmured against my ear.

“You’re right and I am.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

She pulled back to study my face, her expression concerned. “Christian, if there’s something?—”

“I’m fine, Dahlia. Really.”

I didn’t mean to dismiss the conversation, but I couldn’t very well have a therapy session with my assistant.

I wasn’t fine. I was watching Naomi dance with Nathan Bullard and trying not to think about what would happen when the evening ended.

Trying not to picture them in his penthouse, her dress pooled on his bedroom floor, his hands on her body where mine should be.

The song ended, but instead of returning to our table, I moved toward the terrace doors. I needed air, space, somewhere to breathe.

The night was cool, the terrace mostly empty except for a few couples seeking privacy. I leaned against the stone railing and tried to sort through the mess in my head.

“Christian.”

Her voice made me turn. Naomi stood in the doorway, her dress a dark silhouette against the golden light from the ballroom. She’d left Nathan inside to follow me out here.

“Naomi.”

She stepped onto the terrace, the door closing behind her with a soft click. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the space between us charged with everything we weren’t saying.

“This is quite the surprise,” she said.

“Funny thing about that. I could have sworn I asked you to be my date for this event two weeks ago.”

Her chin lifted slightly. “In my defense I didn’t know it was this specific event, and I told you I wasn’t available.”

“Right. Because you had other commitments. You could have been more specific about what kind of commitments you had.”

“Christian—”

“This Saturday belongs to us, am I wrong?”

I was tired of pretending this didn’t hurt. I didn’t want to pretend like seeing her with another man was just business as usual.

“This Saturday night belongs to us and still does,” she replied, her voice steady. “That hasn’t changed.”

The distinction in her words—Saturday night, not Saturday—was loud and clear. She was drawing the lines again, reminding me of the boundaries I kept trying to cross.

“Right,” I said, nodding slowly. “No expectations. No explanations. No complications. I got it.”

I turned to go.

“Christian, wait.”

“No, Naomi. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

I walked away without looking back, pushing through the terrace doors and into the warmth of the ballroom. Dahlia was waiting by our table, her expression questioning, but I couldn’t face her concern right now.

Instead, I found the nearest exit and escaped into the hotel lobby, then out into the night air. My driver was waiting, and I slid into the back seat of the Town Car without a word.

Maybe the rules were protecting us both. But to me, this was prison.