“Anything specific for us today, boss?” she called after him.
“Take the day off,” he told them. “Both of you. Let me deal with The Tower.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
OUT FRONT WHEN you’re ready, was all Sam texted her.
My stalker can’t even escort a girl from her door?she texted back.
Baby, if I go anywhere near your door, we’ll never make it to the symphony.
Ana smiled at the message as she took another glance at herself in the mirror, admiring the low-cut black jumpsuit she was wearing, how it hugged her curves and the belt cinched in her waist. She grabbed her leather jacket and keys before heading out the door.
Sam was leaning against his bike out front when Ana emerged down the stairs. He looked up and let out a plume of smoke from the thin joint he was smoking, and as his eyes traveled over her, she saw the corner of his lip lift.
“This is exactly why I didn’t go upstairs,” he said as she drew closer.
“Why?” she asked.
Sam’s eyes darted over her again, tongue darting out and wetting his bottom lip with the survey. “Because you look like a fucking goddess,” he told her. “Had I gone upstairs, I would have fallen to my knees and worshipped every part of you.” He slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her close. “And after last night, it’s all I’ve been thinking about.”
Ana’s chin lifted, and she reached up to his face, dragging her thumb over his lip. “Me too.”
He leaned down like he might kiss her, his forehead landing on hers, mouths brushing, and as she dodged his advance, he grabbed ahold of her bottom lip with his teeth instead, leaving behind a nip that made her smile swell when he pulled away. His licentious smirk met her, and he crawled over the bike, revving the engine as she slipped on behind him.
The way Sam walked was a gift to the rest of that fucking kingdom.
He walked as though he owned the place. Hands usually in the pockets of his leather jacket, his shoulders and back straight, chin held high, with confidence in every step. Somehow his presence beckoned the people around him. Whether they realized it or not, every person seemed to bow their heads slightly when he strode past. Most, she had noticed, did not even turn to look in his direction, but their subconscious knew he was there.
He radiated power and ownership. It had taken Ana an hour or so to get used to it on their first date at the gallery, but once she did… she felt like she were part of it. Like she was under that umbrella of his protection, and no one,nothing, would ever hurt her again.
Well, except maybe him.
A few turned their heads as they passed through the throng of people at the performing arts center. Sam held her hand and guided her through the crowd, although he always stepped into a room after her, and he never stood in front of her. He held doors for her like he were presenting a queen, smiling at her like they shared some cosmic secret about who they were and what they could do.
As though they were the most powerful people in existence, and the rest of the world should know it.
Ana loved every second of it.
Although Sam may have radiated that energy, he certainly didn’t flaunt any riches he might have been hiding from her, not that she expected to be wined and dined by someone who worked at the cemetery. Ana liked that, too. She liked that he wasn’t flashy and trying to buy her affections. She liked that the seats they were in were regular seats and not some box seats where she had to pretend to be a pretentious bitch and look down on the rest of the audience like peasants. She liked that she could be herself, whoever that was, with him and didn’t have to put on a show.
She might have been trying to get close so she could worm her way into that castle, learn everything he knew about it, only she was also enjoying herself more than she’d ever enjoyed life.
They split the cost of their wines at the stand before heading to their seats, and Ana sighed as she sat down, unable to stop smiling all around her.
She caught Sam looking at her out of the corner of her eye. “What?” she asked.
“I didn’t know you’d be this excited about an orchestra,” he said, his arm sliding around the back of her chair.
“You said cinematic horror and orchestra in the same sentence,” she said. “Two of my favorite things.”
He considered her as he often did, looking surprised at what she’d said, and perhaps was contemplating whether she was lying. She wondered what had made him so suspicious of people that he would watch her like that.
The lights lowered then, not giving her another chance to say anything about his stare. Ana took another sip of her wine as the room began to applaud lightly with the appearance of the orchestra.
And the sounds that followed nearly made her weep.
Ana had always loved music. She’d loved how it spoke to her heart and invoked feelings in her that nothing, save for physical art, had ever made her feel. The drums, the violins, and everything in between. Every pound and strike made her heart dance. She was a part of that sound, and that sound was a part of her.
