Page 73 of Her Dark Salvation

“This is my charity event.”

“I meant out here. Outside.” Everyone was staring at us, but I followed Marco’s lead and tried to ignore them, focusing on the steadiness of his arm.

“I didn’t want anyone to wonder who you were with tonight.” We stepped through the doors into the foyer, and he lowered his lips to my ear. “You’re mine.”

I shivered, but before I could respond, an attendant ushered us out of the way of incoming guests.

“May I take your coat, madam?”

The abrupt warmth of the lobby and Marco’s declaration had me overheating. I blinked a couple of times before I nodded and handed my clutch to Marco. I unbuttoned my coat, and the attendant eased it off my shoulders. I thanked him, and he hurried off to the coat check.

I turned to Marco, and he stared at me with such unmasked desire, my sex tingled with anticipation. His obsidian eyes travelled the length of my body and lingered where the neckline plunged past my breasts.

His eyes returned to mine, and they burned with sinful intent, napalm on the flames of my desire. Every day we’d spent apart, the wildfire had expanded, and now it consumed me.

“Thank you for the dress,” I said and reached for his hand. He interlaced his fingers with mine, but their steady strength provided only a fraction of the touch I craved. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s only beautiful because you’re wearing it.” He pulled me into him and slid his hand around my waist to the bare skin of my back. It prickled with goosebumps from the glide of his fingertips along my spine. “And I can’t wait to get you out of it.” He breathed in my hair, and when he exhaled, his chest rumbled with satisfaction. He released me and pressed us forward into the milling crowd.

Flowers, tuxedos, and satin transformed the lobby into a five-star gala. Flutes of champagne, crystal tumblers of whiskey, and fat red wine glasses sparkled under the chandeliers. A jazz quartet floated smooth notes across the space, background to the chatter and laughter of the lively crowd. The scene was a spectacle of wealth, power, and class.

Marco stopped when we reached the center of the lobby, turning more than a few heads and making me self-conscious. He scanned the room, his cold survey calculating, but I was sinking under the weight of whispers and glances. I wanted to escape, fade into the background, be one of the spectators, not the spectacle. I kept my eyes down and stepped forward, hoping to pull him along, but he held me in place.

“Wait, mia cara.”

“Why? Everyone’s watching us.”

“I know.”

Confused, I looked up.

His eyes captured mine, and they were filled with so much affection and pride, I thought my heart might explode. “You’re brilliant and beautiful, and I want everyone to see how brightly you shine.” He lowered his lips to my ear, and they brushed against its ridge sending a shiver down my spine. “And I want everyone to know, later tonight, I’ll be fucking the most beautiful woman here.”

His whispered promise and the brush of his lips sent a shockwave of sensation through my body. It made me tremble, and the slick evidence of my desire moistened my thong.

He pulled back, his touch replaced by a cold emptiness I couldn’t wait for him to refill, and we resumed our journey toward the bar. He nodded to several people along the way, none of whom I recognized, until a short, round man with gray hair and an artificial smile stepped into our path.

Holy shit. The mayor of Boston.

I flexed my fingers, cursing their clamminess. In a moment of frantic clarity, I wrapped my right arm around Marco’s waist knowing there was an inevitable handshake in my future and refusing to use a dress that cost more than my mortgage payment as a towel.

“Marco!” Mayor Kelson’s familiar voice rang across the closing distance. “Good to see you. Excellent turnout.”

“Rich.” Marco took the mayor’s outstretched hand and gave it a single pump. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Important cause and equally important guests. It’s an election year, you know,” the mayor finished with a chuckle. His pale blue eyes darted to me and back to Marco. “And who’s this?”

“This is Dr. Anna Barone. Anna is a professor of international finance at Sloan.”

The mayor’s head jerked back enough for me to notice, and his eyes traveled down my body.

I bit the inside of my cheek and forced myself not to roll my eyes. This wasn’t the first time I’d experienced that reaction. An academic with curves? Impossible! I bit my cheek harder.

He held out his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Barone. And thank you for contributing to the educational excellence of Boston. This city wouldn’t be the same without MIT.”

I dragged my palm down Marco’s back, then took the mayor’s hand in as confident a grip as I could manage. “The pleasure is mine, Mayor Kelson. I’m impressed by what you’ve accomplished this term, increasing funding for public education. It’s an important investment in our future. Thank you.”

“There’s a lot of work left to do, so don’t forget to vote.” He wagged his finger. “Marco, I have rounds to make. Thanks again.”

---