Page 69 of Twisted Fate

“That’s not what I meant.” I press my lips together, trying to ignore the pleasant warmth pooling in my stomach and between my thighs. My pulse thrums loud throughout my entire body, and I know he can feel his effect on me.

He slides an arm around my waist and guides me back against his chest. My cheeks flush when I feel him against me.

I hold my breath. “Tristan.”

He spins me around, keeping a small distance between us. “You affect me too, Rory. I thought you should know.”

I swallow, forcing a nod.

“And you were right,” he murmurs, dipping his face closer.

“About?” My voice is strained, my senses overwhelmed by him, his arms on either side of me, his cologne tickling my nose, his closeness warming my skin.

He smirks. “I’m going to kiss you.” He presses his lips against the corner of my mouth, and I turn my face enough that our lips meet full-on when he kisses me again. His hands slide from the counter to my hips where his fingers dig into my leggings as if he’s fighting the urge to rip them off of me.I wish he would.

I drape my arms over his shoulders and lean into him, deepening the kiss and sliding my tongue along his lower lip. He lifts me onto the counter with ease, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him as close as the counter will allow. I gasp when he nips my bottom lip, but the sound is swallowed by his mouth on mine.

After several minutes of the two of us battling for control, he leans back a bit and peppers kisses along my jaw before stepping away.

He walks back to the other side of the counter and plates the food. “Hungry?” he asks.

He has no freaking idea.

Ispend the afternoon prepping the ballroom. Skylar and Max help here and there, but for the most part, it’s up to me and a team of the hotel staff. This is my event...well, notmyevent, but it’s my project, my responsibility, and to ensure it goes well, I like to know I have control over most of it. That’s my type A personality rearing its insanely organized and control-freakish head.

Once the room is prepared and I’ve spoken to the bartender, the caterer, and the classical musician Skylar contacted, I take a breath and allow myself to get ready. There isn’t much time before guests and donors arrive, so I sneak upstairs to Tristan’s place to finish my hair, do my makeup, and put on my dress.

I’m surprised when Skylar comes in and grabs the curling iron while I’m trying to rush through doing my makeup. She goes to work on my hair, pulling part of it up and curling it into loose waves before braiding a portion of it, which gives me time to touch up my face. We don’t talk, and when she’s finished, I don’t say thank you because she’ll snap at me if I do.

I pace around the guest room until there’s nothing left for me to do but put on my dress. I stare at where it hangs on the closet door. It’s a floor-length, sleeveless, rose gold gown that glimmers with every movement. It has a sharp V-shaped neckline and an open back. It’s the most gorgeous dress I’ve ever seen. The fact that I’m wearing it for a work event was my justification for the expense, but when Tristan insisted the company reimburse me for it after he found out how much it cost, I didn’t argue.

I step into the dress, pulling it up until it falls into place, and slip on my heels. My breath catches when there’s a soft knock at the door. “Come in,” I say.

I watch the door open from the mirror in front of me as Tristan steps in and closes it behind him. The world slows. There’s nothing but the two of us, and we can’t stop looking at each other. I’ve seen Tristan in formal wear at the office for meetings, but I’ve never seen him like this. His hair is slicked back, none of the usual unruly pieces sticking out, and it looks darker than normal. It suits him. He’s wearing a black tux with a bow tie, making me smile at the thought of watching him standing at a mirror tying it.

He walks over to where I’m standing and stops behind me. He stares at me in the giant mirror, a look of genuine admiration on his face.

“You look stunning,” he says in a low voice, as if dozens of people fill the room, and his voice is meant for my ears only.

I meet his gaze in the mirror and smile. “Thank you. You look handsome.”

He leans in and kisses my cheek. “This is your night. You’ve worked hard on this event, so I know you want it to be nothing short of perfect, but try to have a good time.”

“Itwillbe perfect,” I assure him.

He chuckles. “Of course it will.”

I nod. “I’ll have a good time. Don’t worry about me, Tris.”

He tilts his head. “What did you call me?” he asks, his tone light with amusement.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No. I liked it,” he admits, making my belly swirl with warmth.

“Okay,” I say after several beats.

His eyes travel the length of me, taking in every curve the material is hugging.

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