Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

LIZZIE

T here was something extraordinary about walking into an event on the arm of a powerful man. It was intoxicating.

Heads turned the moment we walked into the large private house in Mayfair. There were the respectful looks with just a touch of fear from the men and the piercing jealous glares at me from the women.

When Richard entered a room, it was as if he drew all the energy toward him like a magnetic force. It wasn't as if he was the life of the party where everyone was happy to see him, actually quite the opposite. It was the way he radiated calm authority. Servers rushed to offer us drinks and canapés as men gathered their courage to approach Richard with one business proposal or another.

I was certain the women would have slithered up to him as well if it weren't for the possessive way he kept me at his side. There wasn't a moment his hand wasn't protectively on my lower back.

No matter who he was talking to, and I was certain there were some very important politicians, aristocrats, and celebrities, he never forgot that I was by his side, offering me bites to eat, giving me the occasional wink when we were forced to show polite smiles as one person or another droned on about one project or another.

If I wasn't already hopelessly in love with the man, I certainly would have been after tonight. The way he owned the room and commanded everyone's attention was hot as hell. All that power on display was, well… arousing.

He was the king of the jungle and I was his mate. It was hard keeping my hands off him, especially with all these other females circling. Like him, I made a point of keeping close to his side, occasionally brushing his upper arm with my breasts. He was looking particularly handsome tonight in a tuxedo with tails, his extreme wealth subtly on display through black diamond studs in his evening shirt.

If I wasn't so nervous about being alone with him, I would beg him to take me home and fuck me right this minute.

He hadn't mentioned anything more about my day in the car ride over here. Although I wasn't foolish enough to think he had forgotten. Seizing a champagne flute off a passing tray, I took a long sip, ignoring the way the bubbles tickled the back of my throat and nose. We had barely been here a half hour and it was already my second glass. I'd drunk the first one practically in one inelegant gulp.

Richard raised an eyebrow, then pointedly looked at the drink in my hand.

Chastised, I realized the chances of me finding the open bar and being allowed to order a Cosmo martini were probably dramatically reduced.

As yet another overweight man in a tuxedo with its cummerbund stretched to the absolute limit started his approach, Richard casually cut him off by turning to me.

Running the backs of his knuckles down my cheek, he leaned in to huskily murmur, "Do you have any idea how badly I want to push you up against that wall and fuck you senseless in front of all these people right now?"

Oh, God.

I gripped the stem of the champagne flute so hard I feared it would shatter as I failed to stifle a moan. The sexual threat of his words made all the more potent by the fact I knew he was capable of doing just that, and not giving one hot damn what any of these people thought about it.

Richard liked his games.

And one of his favorites was putting me on display while making me come in public. He liked the illicit thrill of watching me struggle between embarrassment and desire.

The fucked-up thing was, I was fast learning I liked that game too. There was something so deliciously erotic about putting your kink out there for the world to see. It was strangely empowering.

Of course, it helped when you were one of the world's richest men. Society had a way of looking the other way when you were rich enough. What would be considered a crime for an ordinary man was simply an eccentricity if you were wealthy enough.

It was one of the things that made him so sexy… and terrifying.

Nothing was off-limits for Richard. Nothing.

"I'm sorry this party is a bore. We'll leave soon."

"It's fine. I'm having fun."

"So, tell me, how was your first day back at class?"

Playing with the feathers on my hip, I answered casually, "Uneventful."

"Did any of the professors give you any trouble?"

"No. Not at all. Thank you for arranging that." My attention was now fully on the empty champagne flute in my hands as I avoided looking straight at him.

I wasn't sure how it all worked out, all I knew was that Richard had made some calls to smooth over my sudden absence and then return to class. Richard was very good at arranging things to his satisfaction.

Although he made it very clear, it was only a temporary solution till he could arrange for private tutors. His attitude toward my attending university had not changed.

I wasn't exactly lying. I did go to my morning classes and all the professors were perfectly normal, not one said a word to me about missed classes or schoolwork.

"Huh."

Unable to resist, I stole a glance at Richard from under my lashes. He took a slow sip from his champagne flute before seemingly innocently asking, "Not even your final period teacher?"

My heart began to pound so loudly in my ears, it drowned out the sounds of the party. "Wh-what?"

"Your last class. I believe it was Textiles. That was the one professor I was unable to reach before you returned."

Regretting drinking those two glasses of champagne so quickly as they soured in my stomach, I could barely form the words to respond. "Nope. They were completely cool."

Okay, now I was totally lying. Of course, the one teacher he couldn't get ahold of was the one class I'd skipped today.

Silence.

Looking up, I was unnerved to find Richard staring down at me. His dark eyes shuttered. The very real possibility he would call me out for lying to him and suddenly whip off his belt and punish my bare ass in front of all these people crossed my mind. My cheeks flamed crimson at the thought.

Trying to escape, I motioned with my head. "Richard, I think that man standing behind you wants to talk."

Without even turning around, he said, "He can wait."

A server passed and held an empty tray out to me. Reluctantly, I gave up my empty champagne flute. Now having nothing to do with my nervous hands, I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to disappear.

"I guess you got lucky today."

I turned wide eyes on him. "What?" What did he mean by that?

"With your professor not saying anything about your absence."

"Oh! Oh, yeah. That. Yes, lucky," I stammered. My heart hammering in my chest.

Richard drained the last of his champagne and placed it on another passing tray. Placing a warm hand on my upper arm, he said, "Let's dance."

His strong fingers wrapped securely around my arm, I was half dragged as I struggled to keep up with his long stride as he made his way to the makeshift dance floor. Sweeping me around, my front was crushed against his chest as he wrapped his strong arm around my middle. His large hand enveloped mine as he began to sway to the music.

The opening guitar strains of Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game" began to play.

His hips pressed against my own. His hard cock pressed into my middle. Afraid to meet his gaze, I focused on his shirt front. There was a small crimson smudge staining the perfect white. My lipstick. My mark.

With my limbs stiff from fear, his strong arms supported my weight as he moved me around the dance floor as the mournful tones of Chris Isaak's lyrics added a tense element to the cat and mouse game we were playing out on the dance floor.

What a wicked game you played…

"You know, Elizabeth. Trust is very important to a man like me."

I squeezed my eyes shut and didn't respond. He didn't expect me to.

"Without trust, I become suspicious."

His hand moved to press between my shoulder blades, a soft threat.

"You wouldn't like it if I became suspicious."

"Richard, I'm?—"

His hand tightened over mine, crushing my fingers.

"Richard, you're hurting me." I raised pleading eyes to him, but was only met with cold sapphire.

"Bad things happen when I think I can't trust someone I love, Elizabeth."

"I can explain…"

"You know that, don't you? That I love you?"

My heart bled. Tears streamed down my cheeks. For him to be confessing his feelings for me all the while knowing I had deliberately deceived him was too much. My lips trembled. I could only nod.

A server approached us on the dance floor with a tray bearing two filled champagne flutes. Unlike the other servers who were attired in black shirts and slacks, this man was in a tuxedo.

Richard picked up the two flutes and handed me one.

A chill went up my spine as I looked into the light amber liquid, watching the frenetic rise of bubbles.

"Drink, my love," he said deliberately. His dark gaze burned into mine.

What a wicked game you played….

I had no choice. I loved him. Yes, I feared the man I also loved.

My life had become… complicated.

With a shaking hand, I raised the glass to my lips and drank.

That was the last thing I remembered…