Page 126 of These White Lies

“I won’teverlet anything happen to you,” I promise in a low voice.

Her clear blue eyes are steady when they meet mine. “I know that, too.”

The trust in her gaze loosens something deep inside me, but not enough to draw a deep breath.

Vincent checks his watch. “It’s time.”

No, I’m not ready.

I’ll never be ready for this.

Everyone files out, leaving us alone. Elizabeth rises, smoothing down her tight skirt, and the sight nearly levels me. I tell myself to focus on what will happen in a few hours. Then I’ll strip it off her and hold her in my arms again.

When this is over.

That’s the picture I cling to, because the alternative is unthinkable.

“Brady.” Her voice pulls me back.

I stand. Elizabeth catches my shirt, tugging me closer and her mouth crashes into mine.

Hard.

There’s nothing soft in it. No hesitation. Just her—kissing me like she’s making a promise, like she’s telling me everything neither of us has been brave enough to say.

My hands fist in her hair, tilting her head as I devour her. Her tongue sweeps against mine, and I pour everything into it—every word I can’t say, every ounce of fear and love choking me.

She moans into me, and I lose it. My palm slides down her back, over the curve of her ass, squeezing, needing to feel her before I let her go. She grips the back of my neck, and pulls me closer, her nails biting into my skin.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Her lipstick is smeared, and her chest heaves against mine. My forehead rests against hers for a beat, and I almost say it.

Stay. Don’t go.

I love you.

But if I speak, I won’t let her walk out that door.

I force myself to pull back, every muscle in my body locked against the urge to drag her into my arms and keep her there.

Thirty minutes later, her makeup immaculate once more, I watch from the van as she enters Ray’s hotel with Finn beside her.

I want it to be me, but know that if anyone is watching, they won’t know his face, and since he’ll be monitoring from the van later, they won’t recognize him inside the party.

My jaw clenches and fists tighten as she exits ten minutes later with her arm around Ray’s, flanked by his useless body guards, and climbs into an SUV idling at the curb.

My eyes drop to the tracker software on my phone.

The red dot blinks steadily. Like a heartbeat.

Appropriate because mine is in that car with her.

36

ELIZABETH

The opulent ballroom décor is overwhelming, which seems an appropriate match for my feelings this evening. High ceilings rise above me, trimmed with intricate gold-leaf moldings, reflecting the chandeliers’ glow. Arched windows with heavy velvet drapes line the walls, shadows softening the flood of light from above. High-top cocktail tables are scattered throughout, and tall vases overflow with white flowers so perfect they almost look unreal.

Again, how appropriate.