Page 7 of Breathtaking

Typical Maddox.

Always watching and waiting.

After a moment, his stare softens, and he gently pushes the hair from my face. “What happened, Lennon?”

As his thumb brushes the bruise no doubt blooming on my cheek, I pull back, already overwhelmed by his touch before remembering he’s the only thing keeping me steady on this damn ice.

Seriously, universe... It couldn’t be anyone else?

“Come on.” He tugs me closer, and my body heats and freezes simultaneously. “You need a hospital.”

“No,” I snap. If one more person tells me what to do, the last string of the single fraying thread of sanity I have left will snap, and I won’t be held responsible for the chaos that ensues. “No hospital. I’m fine. Just a little shaken up. If I go to the hospital, this is news. And it can’t be news.”

He looks around, piecing it all together with his brilliant blue eyes. “Where’s Maria?”

“Still in London.” My cheeks flush, knowing she’d never have let this happen.

His beautifully crooked smile tugs at his wicked lips. “Ditched the bodyguard, huh? I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. If she were here, I doubt my rental would be wrapped around a tree.” I shake my head, then whimper when it hurts. “If I’m lucky, she hasn’t already told my family I left without her.”

Maddox’s smile fades as his gaze sharpens, and his hold on me tightens. No doubt, he feels the adrenaline leaving my body. Years of dancing, of honing my craft and developing long, lean, strong leg muscles, mean nothing when you stand on shaky feet after an accident. And right now, I think this man might be the only thing keeping me upright. “What are you doing here, Lennon?”

“I wanted to surprise Gracie,” I softly admit.

Grace Sinclair Wilder is one of the few things Maddox and I have in common. We’re nearly opposites in every way, but my sweet best friend loves us both. She had her triplets earlier this year, and I’ve been trying to find time in my ridiculous schedule to get here since.

A pang of longing hits me when I think about how it’s taken me nearly three months, but with my schedule, earlier wasn’t an option. Lucky for me, Grace understands. Few people in the world truly get the rigorous schedule of a professional ballerina unless you’ve lived it. Grace and I lived it. We met as flat mates her first and only year dancing with the London Ballet. But that was before she went and got herself a hot hockey-god husband and five ridiculously stunning kids. Twins, then triplets. Apparently, everything in America really is bigger, including pregnancies.

I was with her the first time she went into labor, but this time, I was onstage an ocean away.

“Pretty sure Gracie’s asleep by now.” He looks over at my car and shakes his head, while I take the unguarded moment to really take him in.My God. It’s been years, and if it’s possible, he’s even more mouthwatering today than he was back then. Older. More distinguished. He was a sexy young man, but now... now he’s a devastatingly gorgeous man. Dark hair a touch too long frames his face and brilliant blue eyes. Chiseled cheekbones and a jaw that could be cut from granite are covered by a dusting of day-old dark stubble. Stubble that looks so damn sexy, my panties dampen, thinking about what it would feel like against my skin. And those eyes... The only thing more beautiful than Maddox Beneventi’s eyes is his smile, and that’s like finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. If you see one, count yourself lucky because he gives them out sparingly. “Come on. Let’s get you out of the cold.”

He slips out of his leather jacket and slides it over my shoulders, and that scent. The clean, crisp scent of sandalwood and bergamot mixed with something else. Something entirely Maddox—dark and cool and delicious. It wraps around me, soothing me like a weighted blanket. “I can’t just leave...”

“Do you trust me, Lennon?”

Trust? This man may as well be a complete stranger for how long it’s been since I last saw him. Last touched him or talked to him. The memory of the night still hurts worse than the time I tore my ACL. Physical pain heals. Mental pain lasts much longer.

But yet... he’s no stranger. He never could be. In some ways, I let him know pieces of me no one else ever has. I trusted him in ways I’ve trusted very few people.Son of a bitch.

“I’m not sure...” I murmur, regretting every choice I’ve ever made that’s led me here.

Maddox cocks a dark, full brow as if he’s daring me to say more, but he doesn’t loosen his hold.Nope. This fucker just waits me out, holding me close and keeping me safe.

I might question my decisions, but I’m not sure he’s ever questioned a single thing he’s done. He oozes confidence and charm in a way most men exude stupidity.

“Fine...” Damn him. “In this particular instance... on this particular night... I guess I trust you.”

A smirk slides into place on his handsome face.

Yup. He’s a full-blown wanker.

“Such a ringing endorsement,principessa.” My breath leaves me in a whoosh as I’m lifted in his arms, and said wanker carries me to the car like he’d carry his bride over the threshold.

Only I can never be his bride.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelp as I throw my arms around his neck and hang on for dear life.

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