That was what had turned the tide for him. Kiara was going to have to learn some very hard lessons. She would have to be punished and that bastard would have to die for touching her like that.
He began keeping a journal, carefully recording every interaction, every fleeting moment he glimpsed Kiara on social media or during book events. His notes grew more obsessive, filled with detailed plans and imagined conversations. In the quiet hours of the night, Ed convinced himself that fate was guiding him, that all he needed was the right opportunity to make things right.
His yearning turned to resolve, and his resolve, dangerously, to fixation.
She would be at the pub opening tonight, of that he was sure. He would slip in, get near enough to her and try to touch her. If hecould just get a whiff of her scent, it would be enough to satisfy him for now.
He would slip an extra sleeping pill into his mother's meds and be on his way. It was time to act out his fantasies and get close to the woman of his dreams.
It wasn't possible for them to stick together. He had rounds to make, had to be behind the counter to work the bar at times, to show the press and patrons that he was hands on. But his parents were there and so was her best friend.
He had even assigned Eric and Barry as protectors. Discreetly of course. He knew his woman and realized that she would be annoyed he was taking things that far. And he kept an eye on her when he could.
He loved keeping an eye on her. In a two tiered room filled to overflowing with beautiful women, she stands out. The metallic silk had been an innovative idea and glowed against her flawless skin.
The stylist had done up her hair in natural twists, piled on top of her head with tendrils escaping. The matching diamondearrings shimmered and shoot lights out from the scones placed everywhere.
Laughter made her eyes glowed and each time, she glanced over at him, he felt the gut punch of lust and love inside him.
"If you're going to be staring at her like that, I would suggest you drag her off to that office of yours." Eric's amused Irish drawl had him turning to his left.
"What?"
His friend's chuckle brought on the flush. "Mind your bloody business."
"She's already yours mate. More's the pity. Draw me a pint, will you?" He scanned the room and shook his head. "You nailed it as usual. People are eating up this family style pub like warm bread and butter. And the meals!" He smacked his fingers lavishly, eyes dancing. "It's pure Irish. A taste of home. The sports section is hopping. The booths are all filled to the brim."
"Stating the obvious." Oscar scanned the room himself, trying to identify someone who would fit the bill of a stalker. Handing a brimming glass of ale to a waiting patron, he built one for his friend and signaled for a lanky youth to take over.
There was a tangible buzz in the air, the kind that only comes when something new is being born, and everyone wants to be part of it. Glasses clinked, laughter rolled from table to table, and the smell of hearty food mingled with the faint tang of spilled beer. Kiara floated through the evening, radiant and graceful, her laughter a melody he could pick out even in the crowded space.
Yet, beneath the festivities, a subtle tension lingered. Oscar's vigilance never fading, his senses sharpened with every unfamiliar face that drifted near her.
"Go and dance with that beautiful lady of yours before I scoop her up meself."
"That's a good idea."
Moving from behind the sloping teak bar, he made his way, with stops in between and tried not to show his impatience as he spoke to patrons.
He caught glimpses of Kiara across the shifting crowd, her laughter always pulling his gaze back to her like a magnet. With each interaction, greeting a regular, offering a compliment on the stew, exchanging a smile with an elderly couple, he edged closer to her, anticipation thrumming in his veins. The soft lighting danced off her dress as she spoke animatedly withfriends, and Oscar felt a surge of pride that this extraordinary woman was here with him tonight.
Threading his way through the throng, he finally reached her side, his hand seeking hers with an easy familiarity, and together they stepped out onto the polished floor for that promised dance.
"I was starting to feel neglected." She laughed up at him as he spun her around for the Irish jig the live band had started to play.
"You barely noticed my absence. Don't think I didn't see you playing court to several hopeful men."
"Jealous?" She lifted a tapered brow as she effortlessly matched his pace.
"Absolutely." His eyes glittered down at her as he caught her fast against him. Clamping a hand at the back of her neck, he closed his mouth over hers, the kiss sizzling.
Ignoring the applause that burst out at their intimate embrace, he went in for another. Across the room, in a hidden corner, a lone male was staring avidly, face flushed with anger atthe blatant disgraceful behavior on a public dancefloor. Rage simmered and settled.
The single ale he'd allowed himself sank like stone in his gut.
The bastard was showing him up, toying with him. Ed's fingers dug into the thick glass, and he had to stop himself from hurling it across the room. There were securities at every corner. He had also seen several off duty cops. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on the bustling crowd instead of the couple on the dance floor. Every cheer, every round of laughter mocked his isolation, intensifying his bitterness. Determined to remain unnoticed, he kept his posture casual, but his eyes never strayed far from Oscar and Kiara, cataloging each movement, each touch, with a mounting sense of resentment and resolve.
