I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series) (46 page)

I take a few steps, concentrating on my balance. The last thing I need is to trip or break my ankle walking into the place. I pat additional powder on my nose and swipe a little more eye shadow over my lid, sealing its position. I’m ready. I breathe deeply, trying to settle the nausea that silently creeps into my stomach.
Tonight will be okay, right?
I hope so. Loud footsteps stomp down the hallway, ending with a knock on my bedroom door. I swing it open and find Valen standing there. His bottomless sapphire eyes rest on me, looking overwhelmed, as he drinks in the sight of me rather passionately.

He clears his throat. “Wow… Anna. You look… stunning,” he says shyly.

My cheeks flush at his observance. “Thanks, you do too.” He makes any tuxedo look better. “Thank you for the earrings… you didn’t have to do that,” I add coyly.

“I’m glad you like them,” he says, tilting his head to see them. “You look radiant,” he adds.

We stand in silence, both wanting to say more. My heart drops at the thought of him going to the Ball with Brielle. We agreed it would better if we kept our original dates, since our feelings can only compromise our safety, and give Micah the upper hand. I push a stray curl behind me ear out of nervousness, causing my diamond earring to drop on the floor. Valen bends down and picks it up. He moves closer and my heartbeat quickens. My breath catches as a whiff of his cologne drifts into my nose. Warm fingers delicately touch my earlobe and he gently slides the metal through my ear. He takes his time, lingering longer than necessary. He glides his hand down my flushed cheek, easily scattering my thoughts like dry leaves in a breeze. I stare into his focused gaze as he cups my cheek in his hand, sliding his other arm behind my bare lower back. Chills explode under his fingertips, and I gasp uncontrollably. Butterflies dance in my stomach, elevating my craving for him. He pulls me closer, pressing our bodies against one another. Our desires intertwine, entangling our senses. I wrap my arms around his neck, in case he hesitates to move further. I close my eyes in excitement, hoping to have what I wanted for so long. Just then, the loud chime of my doorbell shatters my fantasy. Valen clears his throat, taking a step back. My tortured arms drop to my sides, weighed down in frustration. I know I’m flustered, judging by my blazing, cherry-red cheeks and wobbly knees. I regain the little composure I have and stroll past him, unsure of what to say or do. I sashay down the staircase, gripping the rail for balance. Opening the door, Roman sweeps in.

“Wow!” He takes a step back to admire me. “Anna, my goodness you look delectable,” he says with a wicked smile. “I’m glad you’re my date.”

“Thanks,” I mumble uneasily. I know he’s acting over-the-top to piss Valen off and it’s working. His gaze bores through my back.

I refuse to turn around, not wanting to draw attention to what almost happened. I direct my attention on Roman who’s staring at me oddly, almost like he never saw a woman before. I return the favor, noticing how unbelievably handsome he looks tonight. His dapper tuxedo snuggly outlines his muscular build, making me wonder how he can breathe under all of that material. For once, his unruly hair is neatly plastered to his head, making his eyes pop. I avert my gaze, feeling embarrassed. Two drop-dead-gorgeous men find me attractive. That’s one for the record books.

“Well, shall we?” Roman asks, offering his elbow to me.

I glance back at Valen. Even in the shadows, I spot his jaw’s tight line. I smile, not wanting to make this night anymore uncomfortable than it already is. I turn towards Roman, without waiting for Valen’s response, and snatch my purse, allowing Roman to escort me away into the night.

“See you there, Valen,” Roman yells as we walk out the front door.

The night lacks humidity, letting the fall feel like itself. The crisp air plays between my curls, and sends chills down my spine. A shawl might have been a good idea. I inhale deeply, appreciating the crispness swirling in my lungs. A sleek, black limousine sits idling in my driveway. We’re taking a limo? I’m not sure why it surprises me, considering I’m wearing a designer gown and shoes. Roman opens the door, gesturing for me to get inside with the sweep of his arm. I climb in as gracefully as my long gown and four-inch heels allow. The inventor of the limousine could not have been a woman. Roman fluidly enters and sits beside me, putting my awkward entrance to shame. He reaches forward, grabbing a gold bottle of champagne sitting on ice. After popping the top loudly, he pours the bubbly liquid into two long-stemmed champagne flutes. My phone dings and pings, announcing I have a message. I fish it out of my tiny clutch, hitting the
Open
button. A text message icon pops on my screen. Clicking it, a note from Kristy appears.

“Kristy isn’t coming,” I say out loud in disbelief. Why didn’t she call me earlier? I text her back to make sure she’s okay. She promptly acknowledges my concern, begging me to relax. She needs to go into work; they're desperate for help. Talk about late notice.

“It wasn't hard to discourage her from going," Roman replies triumphantly.

"What did you do?"

"Anna, relax," he says calmly. "I didn't do anything... unless you call spelling her to change her mind something. It’s better like this anyway. Now, I have one less person to worry about,” Roman protests.

"Roman, don't you use magic on her again, got it?" I point at him irritably. I'm relieved Kristy isn't going, but I don't appreciate him taking advantage of her. Roman just smiles at my threat. I scowl uneasily at the thought of being alone tonight. I’m glad she’s out of harm’s way, but having her beside me was a comforting thought.

He hands the champagne-filled flute to me. “Cheers to you on your birthday,” he smiles.

“Cheers,” I repeat, clinking his glass lightly.

I lift the glass to my mouth, taking a little sip. The bubbles pop and fizz over my taste buds as it makes its way down my throat. It’s an enchanting balance between sweet and dry. The limo reverses in my driveway, causing my nerves to do somersaults. Even with deep breaths, they refuse to settle down. I touch the glass to my lips, this time gulping a large mouthful of liquid. I’m no longer concerned about being ladylike at this point.

“Okay, slugger,” he says with a cocked eyebrow. “Is your date that bad?” he jokes with a hint of seriousness wrapped in it.

“I’m sorry, but I’m nervous about tonight,” I stammer. “I know you and Valen will protect me, but I still don’t like the idea of being surrounded by strangers who probably want to kill me.”

Roman places his hand over mine, and a small surge of electricity runs up my arm, tingling my skin. I try not to pull away on reflex. Will I ever get used to this? I lower my gaze, hoping to conceal my discomfort.

“Anna, you don’t have to worry,” he says gravely. “I'll never let anything happen to you; do you hear me?”

Although his question is rhetorical, I nod my head. Roman’s manly fingers clutch my chin gingerly, drawing it up towards him. “I will always protect you.”

His eyes penetrate mine, rocking everything inside me. I’ve never seen him so serious. I feel like an insecure teenager. His presence can be overbearing sometimes, but in a good way. He continues to study me, no doubt, debating on whether or not he should kiss me. This can’t happen… not now… not tonight. Dread fills my stomach, warning me I might not even try to resist him. Roman lowers his hand and leans back into the leather seat. Relief washes over me. I’m glad he made my decision for me. I fall back into the seat, enjoying the soft rich leather yielding under my weight. What’s going on tonight? Everything feels so out of sorts, to the point of make believe. I sigh, eager to see what else is in store for me. The image of Valen leaning on the staircase haunts me like a bad decision. I swallow a few more gulps of the bubbly. Roman inches forward, reaching for the champagne. He motions for my glass, refilling it without asking. “Slow down a little bit,” he grins. “You need to be somewhat coherent around Micah.”

I roll my eyes at the sound of his name. “I know, but I need to take the edge off…” my voice trails.

Roman slides closer to me. “Listen, everything will be okay tonight. Brielle will keep an eye on you while Valen and I look for Janie and Cara,” he promises, resting his hand over mine again. “Just be careful… never let your guard down around Micah.”

I nod. “I won't.” What other choice do I have?

“If anything happens, I would never forgive myself.”

He moves his hand to the back of my neck, coaxing me forward. His lips are inches from mine, daring me. He touches my lips delicately and I do nothing to stop him. The electrical current sweeps through my body undeniably. He gently opens my mouth with his, sliding his tongue inside. I reciprocate, aware of his flowing current surfing through my body. His magic mixes with mine, exploring one another with a strange familiarity, unlike the first time. His kiss deepens, and he squeezes the back of my neck harder before releasing me.

“I’m sorry,” he spits abruptly.

“Its… okay,” I lie. Everything in my life is far from okay, and this screwed-up love triangle is rapidly making its way into the top three.

The remainder of the ride is silent. Roman’s demeanor suggests he’s ashamed of his actions and I’m embarrassed for allowing it. There are too many variables lacking solutions in my life for me to try and overanalyze what just happened. I have to get through tonight unscathed. I stare out the tinted window, unable to see much of anything. The limo abruptly turns onto a skinny road… probably the driveway. I steady myself as it hobbles over small potholes in the dirt path, waiting for a tire to pop. It takes it like a champ, stopping in front of an enormous mansion. The driver puts the car in park, hopping out quickly. My door opens as a chubby hand appears inside, requesting mine. I oblige, stepping out of the limo with a little more grace than earlier.

The night’s dim moonlight spills on the large live oaks surrounding the home, covering it in a twisted splendor. Their long branches drape the ground, showcasing its grandeur like a sinister butler, welcoming guests. Red and black flowers poke through the trimmed hedges, longing for attention. The home’s architecture is from the Greek revival period, and the intricate, light tan stones and carvings hold a timeless elegance. Numerous windows are scattered haphazardly, remnants of a lost past. A chill flows through me as I adjust my dress, making sure all my cash and prizes are tucked neatly away. Roman lets himself out and walks over to me. He slips my arm through his before whispering in my ear. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I mumble. We approach the thick, steel doors, ten feet tall, when a cramp seizes me, doubling me over.

“Anna, are you okay?” Roman asks, alarmed.

I wave him off. “I’m fine… just nerves,” I say, placing the palm of my hand on my stomach. He ushers me to the side, clearing our two-person roadblock. I lean against the cool wall, inhaling deeply. “It’s tolerable,” I state, attempting to judge his expression.

“We don’t have to go in,” he offers.

“No, I’m fine. It’s starting to go away.” I drop my hand, sliding it into Roman’s arm. “Let’s get this over with,” I urge.

Roman steps through the doorway into the most majestic foyer I’ve ever seen. The floor is a milky marble, with specks of gold twinkling underneath the oversized gold chandelier. It hangs from the ceiling, shining like the sun, bouncing light off anything reflective. My dress captures every errant ray, tossing it over the walls and floor. A great staircase, both imposing and pertinacious, looms before us. I never understood the need for two staircases for one level. This mansion must have an abundance of rooms and the idea of Janie being kept here starts to make more sense. I glance at the foreign faces staring at me. I plaster a stupid grin to match my rosy cheeks.

“No need to worry,” Roman chimes in. “They’re trying to figure out who you are… and your dress is slightly distracting,” he smiles.

He’s right. Even though I look radiant, the image of a walking Christmas tree crosses my mind. I dismiss it when I see half of the men’s faces light up in my presence. We continue walking, and finally reach an expansive ballroom. The large chamber is decorated like a hall of gothic decadence, sprinkled with rich velvet trappings and garlands of jewel-colored flowers. Clusters of twinkling lights trace the ceiling, mimicking a night sky. To my right, several musicians strum and blow away on their designated instruments, filling the room with loud music. A sea of people twist and gyrate carelessly across the floor. The clatter of myriad heels, smacking the shiny, cherry hardwood, increases the beat. My eyes dart between their graceful movements, catching numerous glimpses of gorgeous people.