“Yes,” he said gruffly. And he’d search every bastard she so much as looked at, until she realized there would be no one, ever, to know her like Daniel.
Then he noticed her eyes glistened with … hope? Tears? Whatever it was, it was clawing into him like talons. Deeply. Profoundly.
And suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore.
“You’re no longer with Gustafson, good for you. But what does your new situation mean for me?”
Holding his gaze as though startled, Monica bit her lip and then glanced at the hands he kept motionless at his sides.
“Does this mean anything for me?” he demanded.
When she only held her breath, still looking at his hands as though she wanted them on her, Daniel took a step forward, his heart screaming at the risk he was taking. If she kept saying no … if she kept shooting him down …
“Am I going to live my entire life wanting you and not having you?” he asked in quiet fury. “Would you have stayed with a man you don’t love if it weren’t for the out I found for you?”
She shook her head. “There were a lot of things wrong with Roland, actually.” She met his gaze squarely. “Starting with the fact that he’s not you.”
He stiffened in unexpected surprise when she leaned forward, altering his body chemistry with the touch of her frame fitting like a missing puzzle piece into his larger one. He instantly responded. He grew hot and hard under his tuxedo, too big to fit inside his skin.
He was throbbing to be inside her as she started sliding both her hands up the length of his chest. His pulse skidded when she grabbed his bow tie and boosted herself up, and her soft, parted lips came locking perfectly with his.
A frisson of heat bolted straight from her kiss to his heart, his toes, his cock, her lips immediately parting at the contact of their mouths.
It was the softest, most shyly hesitant kiss anyone had ever given him, and the significance of her sweet, open public display of affection wasn’t lost on Daniel.
He could shatter her right here. He could turn her away. Hurt her like he hurt. But the fact that Monica was exposing herself, vulnerable and open and at his mercy, hell, the trust her actions implied, as if she knew even when he was aching down to the marrow of his bones, he would protect her with his life, undid him.
Monica Davenport was claiming him. Claiming him and accepting him.
The realization fired him up like an explosive.
Groaning fully, Daniel pulled her to him, not minding that the people around them seemed to have fallen still, not minding the press, the entire crowd, anything but opening Monica’s sweet soft mouth and tasting her and taking what she gave him. Tears, love, he could taste it. He shuddered with it, felt the tremor that went through her slender body, and he brought her closer, close and tight, but not close enough.
She heatedly whispered, “I adore you,” into his mouth, making small fists in his hair, locking herself against him as a string of words rushed out of her lips, warm and fast. “I’m sorry. Please tell me I haven’t lost you. Tell me you love me. I’m yours, Daniel, you’ve always had me. You had me when I was ten years old. I’ve been so afraid.”
Daniel was so dazed, he just framed her face and nuzzled her nose for a minute, panting. “It’s just me, Monica, it’s me, princess. Your friend, your protector, your lover.”
She shuddered and kissed him softly again, pulling back to capture his gaze. “I’m so afraid what I feel will eat me up, but it’s out of the box, Danny. I want to feel everything you make me.… I want to keep you forever, I want you to keep me, never have anyone other than me.”
“Jesus, come here.” He crushed her tighter to him and reclaimed her lips, and there was no resistance in her, only a shudder that seemed to start in her body and end up in his. Waves of ecstasy throbbed through him, her kiss singing through his veins until his breath tore out of him in gasps. He pulled away and shakily kissed each of her cheekbones, the tip of her nose. “Do you want to get out of here?”
The mere touch of her hand as she set it trustingly in his sent another shiver through him, filling him with relentless excitement as her lips curled in a smile of mischief. “Please, let’s. Do you have a decoy?”
He shook his head but smiled in mischief as he glanced at the front ballroom doors, where a couple of VIP press members seemed to be clamoring for a picture, their long lenses on the cameras, aimed straight in their direction and zooming in. Every eye in the party seemed to be focused on them, and when Monica realized this, her eyes first widened in concern, and then she pressed to his side and laughed softly. Their bodies thrummed against each other, vibrating with new life as they linked their fingers together.
“Maybe we should just give them what they’ve been begging for all these years,” she lightly suggested.
His chest swelled at those words and the confidence in them, and Daniel’s grip tightened on her fingers. “All right, if we’re doing this, let’s go all out and give them a field day.”
He scanned the crowd for a head of light blond hair and noticed Chloe was already leaving through the back door, a big smile on her face as she waved. Seconds later, Daniel and Monica stepped out of the ballroom, the reporters who had lingered there charging feverishly after them. They headed out the lobby, where even more paparazzi stood in wait. One of Daniel’s Bugatti cars was parked at the very entrance driveway of the hotel, and it automatically beeped as Daniel and Monica approached.
Flashes erupted all around them, and for a moment both Daniel and Monica stopped to face them, his arm around her.
“Mr. Lexington, are you together?”
“Is she The One, Daniel?”
“Ms. Davenport, is there anything going on between you?”
“Daniel, is she The One?”
Neither answered as they allowed a couple of pictures, and Daniel finally opened the door for her, led her in, locked her in, and then he slid in behind the wheel and started the engine.
“Daniel, it’s going to be difficult for me,” Monica said as soon as he pulled them out of the hotel driveway.
He checked the rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t followed, then made a left. “That’s all right, we’ll take it one step at a time. I’ll spend some nights in your place, you spend some in mine. We can leave some clothing. I don’t care where as long as you’re in my arms.” He braked at the stop light and glanced at her with a grin, taking in her amazed expression, her pink cheeks, the special warmth in her eyes, that ear-to-ear smile that matched his. “How does that sound?”