Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
He excuses himself from the conversation and stands as I approach.
"Elowen," he says, rolling my name over his tongue like an expensive brandy. I shiver.
"Adam.” His suit is perfectly tailored to his body, even his noticeably broad shoulders and thick arms. He looks incredible.
"You look…beautiful."
It's a simple compliment, one that almost anyone would give a woman in their company, but his slight hesitation and the darkness of his pupils as he says it have my mouth going dry. Oh, I’m in trouble. I really should have reconsidered this job. Damn you, brain, why did you desert me? Or was it betrayal?
"Thank you," I manage, my smile brittle.
He nods, motioning for me to join him as he makes his rounds. The gala has only just begun, and now it's time for me to work, stuck to Adam's side like glue. I'm supposed to be little more than a shadow, but Adam brings me to the forefront, introducing me to everyone we meet and making sure I feel included. It’s important to him that I feel like I’m on equal ground, though I’m not sure why it matters.
As we walk through the crowds, people’s heads turn, but I keep busy enough to not let it bother me. Adam Valmonte never brings a plus one to these things–he never brings anyone, now that Celeste is gone. And here he is with me, a relative unknown in this world. Sure, I’m just here for work, but from the outside, nothing about me screams employee.
I keep my head up, my expression neutral. I am a professional. I am here to do a job.
I translate a conversation he has with a German CEO, then another with a French diplomat. I’m in my element, my brain firing on all cylinders, the words flowing from one language to another with an ease that surprises even me. Adam is watching me, and it hits me that this is the first time he’s seen me working in person. It makes pride well up in me, and the next time I catch him looking, I smile back.
Then, a new face cuts through the crowd, and as soon as he comes into our eyeline, Adam tenses. I can hear him speaking to someone else on his way over–he’s an English speaker, so whatever Adam doesn’t like about him isn’t something that has been lost in translation. The man has dark, slicked-back hair and a suit that seems a touch loud for an event like this.
"Adam Valmonte," he says, his voice oily smooth. "Always a pleasure."
"Edwin Dubois," Adam replies, his own voice tight but perfectly polite. "I trust you're enjoying the evening."
"Immensely. Though it's just gotten far more interesting." Dubois turns his full attention to me, completely ignoring Adam, and I suppress a shiver of disgust as his gaze climbs up my body from my feet to the top of my head. "And who is this charming creature you've been hiding from us all?"
"Elowen Hart, my translator," Adam’s tone is steely.
"A translator," Dubois repeats, laughing a little to himself. “My, my. You certainly have a…unique way of selecting your staff, Adam. I can see why you chose her.”
He steps closer to me, invading my personal space, smelling of expensive cologne and whatever oil he’s liberally applied to his hair. "Miss Hart. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Perhaps you could spare a dance for a lonely businessman later?" He places his palm on my upper arm and runs his fingers down, scratching my skin, then wrapping his hand and squeezing the fleshy part as if testing my biceps. I feel my face blush.
I step away from him. But he does not release his grip. I open my mouth to offer him a polite refusal, but Adam is faster. And less polite.
He steps forward, grabs Dubois by the wrist, and twists the man’s whole arm. Dubois releases his grip immediately. “Miss Hart does not like to be touched, Edwin. And you know I always protect what is mine.” Adam steps in between Dubois and me. Dubois grimaces, stares at Adam, smiles at me, then turns away.
Adam places his hand at my lower back, the bare skin of his palm making direct contact with the bare skin of my lower back. For a fleeting moment I’m self-conscious of the fleshy rolls above my hip bones. But the heat and firmness of his touch sends a jolt directly up my spine, my core clenching as my awareness of Adam ratchets up to the highest degree. With this one brief touch, my inconvenient crush has rocketed straight to desire, fierce and undeniable. I choke back the gasp that tries to escape me, locking my knees so my legs don’t shake too noticeably.
"I should introduce you properly," Adam’s voice has utterly changed, still deep, but possessive in a way I’ve never heard before. The entire ballroom seems to quiet down, the low hum of conversation hushing in our immediate vicinity. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is my fiancé."