“It’s adrenaline. Your body’s dumping the fear out now that you’re safe. It’s normal.”
I swallowed hard. “I hate it.”
His thumb brushed behind my ear. “Want help?”
I nodded.
He eased me off his lap, like I might break if he moved too quickly. I stayed kneeling on the floor while he crouched in front of me.
“Arms up,” He made it sound simple.
I lifted my arms, and he pulled the shirt off me. He reached behind me for my crumpled dress. He held it up for me, guiding it over my head.
He tugged it gently into place. His fingers brushed the zipper at my spine.
“Ready?” he asked, zipping me up.
I nodded.
“You’re alright. Stand up slowly.”
After I did. He stepped back, looked me over, making sure the straps were straight, the bodice wasn’t twisted, the hem wasn’t tucked.
Once I found my balance, he handed me my heels. My fingers still shook around the thin straps.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yep, I think.”
He turned toward the doors. But before he could touch the panel, I moved. Wrapping my arms around him again, grateful, and pressed a kiss to the center of his chest through his tank top.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
His breath caught…hard enough I felt it. I dropped my hands, embarrassed. He reached for the door controls. Light flooded in as the doors slid open. People were everywhere.
Security. Engineers. Dynasty personnel. And in the middle, Uncle Cole shouting into his phone in another language, face red, pacing like he was about to tear the building in half.
“Maddy!” someone yelled. “She’s here—she’s here!”
Hands reached for me. Questions flew. Flashlights pointed. Cameras flashed. Security swarmed in on me immediately to protect me from the veil drones that was streaming the situation live.
I turned back toward the elevator. Trying to get a glimpse of him. But Vince was already gone. Just disappeared into the chaos like he had never been there at all.
2
Madeline
Three weeks after the elevator tried to kill me, I found myself staring through the glass window of a high-end shoe boutique falling in love.
Not with a man.
With heels.
The kind of heels that belonged in a museum protected by lasers and a guard with a tranquilizer gun.
The display featured a new limited-edition release, rose-gold stilettos with a delicate arch, tiny diamonds along the back seam, and a sculpted heel that looked like art deco architecture had a baby with a jewel thief.
I pressed a hand to the glass.
