Surrender (The Command Series Book 3) (23 page)

“Uh . . .” they both said. Olivia was about as thrilled with this idea as he was. The tables around them emptied. He didn’t look like dancing was his thing, and Olivia knew it wasn’t personal when he appeared to be searching for a way out.

“Dance with her,” Laurel commanded. “She came by herself.”

His anxious gaze settled on something and stilled, and the fear seeped away from his expression. “I only dance when I have a professional helping me,” he said. “And I just found someone else who came alone, too.”

Olivia turned and the crowd parted at that moment, not that it mattered. He was a head taller than most people.

Soon
finally became now.

-16-

Olivia stopped breathing. Even though Ethan was on the other side of the garden, she could see him clearly. He wore a jet-black suit with a crisp white dress shirt, and the tie was red silk. A darker red than her dress, slightly closer to the red of blood than the bright hue she wore.

Holy hell.

He’d been talking with a young man, the one she recognized as Shawn’s assistant, and it was as if Ethan could sense her eyes on him, because his gaze swung her direction.

Holy shit.

She’d forgotten how strong the effect of that stare could be. She flattened her palms against her thighs, pressing down and trying to calm the insane nerves fluttering inside her. Falling apart at the sight of a man? Weak. She would not allow it. Even if he was wearing the hell out of that suit.

Holy fuck.

He ended his conversation and began his approach. She returned to face Jason and Laurel, who now stared at her, amused. That was when she realized she’d just said all of those holy swear words . . . out loud.

“Olivia.”

She drew in a sharp breath and steeled herself. “Ethan—”

He’d moved so close that she had to tilt her head to look up at him. She couldn't breathe when his fingertips slipped behind her elbow and guided her toward him as he backed up. Until he stopped moving and she collided with him. His thick arms encased her and gently shifted, encouraging her to move.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

The black holes of his pupils were hypnotizing. “Attempting to dance with you, but you’ll have to start moving for it to work.”

Why was her brain so slow? Coherent thought was a challenge when he looked at her that way. She slid her fingers up his arms, over the smooth fabric of his suit jacket, and he took her hand in his. It was hard not to think about the last time they’d held hands, the moments after he’d severed his oxygen line.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was quiet, just louder than the melody wafting over them. “Are you done with the Abramos?”

“My part is done, yeah.” His large hand pressed in the center of her back, urging her closer and she complied so their chests were touching. His hand splayed out on her back, so his thumb was above the top of the zipper of her strapless dress, and brushed over the bare skin. She’d been so lucky to find a dress last minute that not only fit, but was high enough to cover her scarred back.

“Oh.” That was all she could come up with. “Did you just get here?”

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. “I couldn’t exactly hop on an Osterhägen plane.”

He brought their entwined hands in, setting hers on the hardness of his chest and closing his rough hand on top of it, by his heart where she could feel the steady thump below her fingertips. A simple gesture that promised to spin everything out of control. It was a good thing his arms were around her, because her legs were rapidly becoming useless. Ethan’s warm breath was by her ear, and that breathing grew uneven and quick.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips tracing the edge of her ear. A shiver slipped down through her body, and she uttered something that was supposed to be a
thank you
, but it was mumbled. The heat of his face went away, and he looked down at her with a gaze so intense she was sure he could see right into her. Her mouth fell open.

“I know I’ve got stuff to talk about,” he said, “but I’m going to kiss you first.”

Her mind was blank. “Here?”

“Yeah.” His face was etched in determination as it lowered in. “I’m not waiting any longer.”

His kiss was . . . indescribable. Nuclear. It radiated out for miles and miles, taking all with it. His hand around hers hardened, crushing her fingers as if the kiss was too powerful and he needed something to hold on to. To comfort him while he both delivered and endured what was so shocking her heart almost stopped. His tongue filled her mouth, seeking hers. Fire burned along every inch of her, but the worst was between her legs. The ache was painful. Acute and unbearable.

The space around them cleared. The music faded to nothing, and the garden emptied of people, so it was only them. Time stopped, and she wanted to remain like this, his mouth moving on hers, connecting with and tasting her.

But his soft lips drew a breath away. “Let’s go somewhere where we can be alone.”

What?
“We are alone.”

His shoulders lifted as he pulled in a deep breath and shot her a smile that only made her soft knees weaker. The smile, she realized dimly, was because they were anything but alone on the center of the dance floor, couples swaying together all around them, some people gawking. The bride caught Olivia’s eye, gave a smile over her new husband’s shoulder, and winked. Olivia wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“I’d like to continue being alone with you,” Ethan said, “but without an audience.”

He didn’t give her a chance to refuse, as if she would. Ethan tugged her by the hand, leading her through the crowd and across the lawn to the glass doors of the impressive house.

A security guard stood in the hallway just past the door to an available bathroom, no doubt to discourage guests from wandering farther than necessary into the house. Ethan spoke in German, and after considering the statement, the guard ushered them along.

The hallway opened into a grand entryway with staircases on either side. Her heels clicked and echoed across the marble flooring and then fell without a sound on the Persian rug, but of course he made no noise whatsoever as he strolled to the stairs.

“How did you get him to let us through?” she asked, climbing alongside him.

“I told him my girlfriend was diabetic and needed someplace quiet to take her insulin.” Ethan delivered it in a straightforward tone, like what he’d said was no big deal. It was a lie, after all. Yet he’d called her his girlfriend. Hadn’t she made him aware she wasn’t capable of a relationship?

“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked when they reached the darkened landing at the top of the stairs. She had to regain some control. From the moment he’d appeared, unexplained pressure pulled her to him. A force she was powerless against.

He grabbed the knob of the first door on his left, turned it, and after flipping on the lights, revealed what appeared to be a home office. “This’ll do.”

His hand was warm on her back as he guided her through the door into the masculine room that smelled of aged leather. There was a subtle thud as the door shut, and then the distinct click as he locked them in together.

Ethan couldn’t wait any longer. He’d hoped the first door they came to would be a guest bedroom, but this room housed an enormous bookshelf, a desk that looked like it wasn’t in use, and an oversized brown leather couch. He could work with that.

Her golden hair fell like a curtain over her bare shoulders, the ends curling softly where the sin-colored dress began. Jesus, he’d about had a heart attack when he’d spotted her. The plan to congratulate Shawn and Kara was forgotten once he’d seen the red dress hugging her curves like it was made for her.

“Are you going to make good on your promise?” Her voice was tight.

His brain and body were so focused elsewhere, it took a moment to realize what she meant. She wanted him to start talking. “Yes, I will. In a minute.”

She launched forward into his arms, her hand fisting in his hair, yanking his head down so she could crush her lips against his. The aggression turned him on—like he needed any help in that department. He placed his hands on her waist and urged her backward. She teetered unsteadily on the heels she probably wasn’t accustomed to, but her lips stayed with his.

A picture frame nearby rattled on its hook when he forced her back against the wall, and that broke the kiss long enough for her to gasp. As the ragged breath came from her parted lips, he pushed her hair out of his way so his mouth could work lower, down over the delicate skin of her neck. He’d spent every night since thinking about what he would have done the morning in the hotel bed if he hadn’t left, planning different scenarios. Now that she was here, he was going to execute each and every one of them.

He grazed her neck with his teeth, and followed with his tongue at the same moment he traced his fingertips over her shoulder, down the line of her exposed collarbone toward her center. A warning issued in his mind made him stop.

Olivia was trembling.

Not a shudder, but trembling as if she was filled with fear. He withdrew, concerned, and the terrified look on her face made his alarm flare. “What is it?”

“Something’s wrong with me.”

Without hesitation, he pulled her away from the wall, cold sweeping through his body like it had been poured on him. What was happening to her? She was pale and shaking hard, her eyes wide. Had someone used her to get to him? He knew just how easy it was to poison a target.
Focus. Get her help.

“Can you walk?” He could carry her if she wasn’t able, down the stairs and out to the lawn where someone was sure to have a medical background. He bent swiftly, scooping her up in his arms.

“Wait! Wait!” She sounded guilty. “Put me down, I’m fine.” She stared up at him, her face flushed. “I didn’t mean something was physically wrong with me.”

“What?” Stepping back from the edge of . . . panic? No, not panic, but whatever it was made him uneasy. “You’re sure?”

She nodded and shifted in his arms, looking desperate to scurry away. So he complied, setting her back on her feet, but he trapped her there in his embrace. He wouldn’t release her until he knew what the hell had just happened.

She took a page right out of his book and stared at him, offering no explanation. The only thing she did was struggle to breathe and compose herself.

“Let’s back up,” he said, finally. “What did you mean that something’s wrong with you?”

Her green eyes blinked rapidly. “Not wrong. I should have said . . . different.” She sighed, and the tension fell from her body like she’d figured out how to shed it off. Her gaze hardened, and she once again became the woman he was more familiar with. “You’ve done something to me.”

“What exactly have I done?”

“I don’t know. You’ve given me these . . .
feelings
.” She said it like he’d given her a disease.

“Feelings,” he repeated. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. The short laugh crept out of him, and then he sobered. He let his voice go heavy with accusation. “Yeah? Well, right back at you, Olivia.”

Acknowledging there was more between them than just sex should have set off alarms. Emotions made him uncomfortable, and they were something he’d prefer not to discuss, ever. In his line of work, he never had time for them anyway. Emotion could get him killed.

He kept waiting for the cold sweat to come, but it didn’t. He suddenly didn’t mind the idea of talking about emotions, provided they were hers. Her halfhearted attempt to break free from his embrace stopped when his mouth dipped onto her shoulder and he brushed his lips over her skin, creating goosebumps on her flesh. “Tell me about these feelings.”

“We didn’t come up here for
me
to talk,” she reminded him.

It was true, but she’d worked information out of him rather successfully and he was looking forward to doing the same. “Tell me.”

She stayed motionless, allowing his lips to continue to wander, like she was making a stand. “You’re welcome to try to make me.”

The smug, overly confident look on her face made his heart thud faster, and stirred things below his belt. This was a game she’d lose, and they were both going to enjoy it.