Then something inside her gave way. Hands trembling, she reached for him and turned her head to rest it against his chest, and they stayed like that until the very last beat faded away.
Alexander pulled back an inch then dropped his forehead onto hers, his nose and lips a whisper from her own. ‘Will you come outside with me for some fresh air?’
When she nodded mutely he took her hand, tugged gently and they walked out of the ballroom.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The cool air was something of a shock after the warm interior of the hotel. Mallory pulled her hand away from Alexander’s and rubbed her arms vigorously, partly because of the change in temperature and partly because of her nervousness. She tightened her toes several times but, for once, her calming technique didn’t appear to be working.
‘You’re cold?’ Alexander asked. He’d taken off his jacket when they’d first sat at the table and it was still on the back of his chair. ‘I can go back and get my jacket for you.’
‘No, I’m fine,’ Mallory replied quickly. ‘I just need to acclimatise.’
He nodded. ‘Okay. There’s an impressive rose garden round the back of the hotel. It’s more sheltered from the breeze. Why don’t we take a wander through it?’
She swallowed. ‘Sure,’ she said shakily. Her stomach was doing somersaults. She cleared her throat. ‘Sounds good.’
They strolled around the huge building, leaving the bright lights and glowing corridor of fire behind them. The rose garden wasn’t pitch dark as Mallory had expected; instead it was illuminated by tiny dancing lights. She couldn’t prevent a gasp from escaping.
Alexander smiled. ‘Magicked fireflies,’ he explained. ‘They’re brought into existence whenever there’s an event, even though few of the guests will bother to come here and see them.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘You have to be in the know.’
Mallory licked her lips. ‘And why are you in the know?’
‘Because I’m Alexander MacTire,’ he said simply. He took her hand again. ‘Do you want to get closer?’
Mallory nodded. The effect of the small lights on the flowers had been extraordinary from a distance; close-up they were equally impressive, except now Mallory could smell the heady scent from the roses, too.
‘It’s early in the season and these are the last of winter roses. In summer, when the bushes are in full bloom, it’s something else. We’ll have to come back again in August and you can see for yourself.’
She turned to him. ‘In August?’ she asked faintly.
He reached out and cupped her face. ‘If everything goes to plan.’ He drew a single ragged breath. ‘Mallory,’ he said hoarsely, ‘I…’
Fuck it. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the scent of the roses. Maybe it was the aching longing in the centre of her chest every time she saw him and knew he would never be hers. Either way,fuck it.
Mallory grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him towards her and kissed him.
His mouth was surprisingly warm and soft to begin with, as if he were unsure of himself, then he let out a low groan and pressed against her with greater urgency. His hands threaded through her hair, loosening the curls that Gia Vanderlan had tamed so carefully, as she moved her fingers to his cheek and brushed against the soft stubble that was already appearing across his jaw.
Desire kicked through Mallory’s veins and tightened her belly. Alexander’s hunger seared her and she could feel his heart thudding against hers. For this one perfect moment, nothing else mattered. There was only Alexander MacTire. There was only this.
But not even this could last forever.
When they finally broke apart, Mallory wasn’t the only one trembling. ‘You’re shivering,’ she whispered, gazing into his eyes.
‘So are you.’ He touched his mouth, then hers. ‘You taste of sunshine and magic and honey. Exactly as I imagined.’
Mallory’s breath caught: fifteen minutes earlier he’d been dancing with Isadora Jones. How had it come to this? She shook her head. ‘What’s happening, Alex?’
He swallowed and took a step back, his amber eyes sweeping across her. ‘Well, it’s obvious that—’ He stopped mid-sentence and his gaze darkened.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘What’s obvious?’
Alexander had gone very still. His nostrils flared and Mallory sensed a deepening, ferocious anger. ‘Your arms,’ he bit out.
She blinked. ‘Pardon?’ She glanced down and realised that the glamour spell Gia had placed on her earlier had worn off. Perhaps she’d rubbed her skin or it was merely the passage of time, but either way there was no denying the blue-and-purple splodges circling her biceps.
