I stood beneath my mother’s paintings, breath tangled in my chest, heart hammering.
I turned my back, grabbed another champagne flute, and lingered near the painting of the sad woman.By the time the glass was nearly empty, Olivia returned, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“Well?”she asked.
“Well,what?”
“I saw that.”She arched a brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She scoffed.“Sure.”
Movement drew my attention.Creed stood near the bar, speaking to someone, but his gaze cut toward me—sharp, focused.
My skin prickled.
“You know he won’t take no for an answer,” Olivia said.
“I know.”
“You think you’re strong enough to resist him?”
I swallowed, still locked in his gaze.“No.”My pulse raced, his words echoing like a dare.
If you want me, come get me.
The arrogance.The certainty.The way he assumed I would break.
God help me—I almost had.
I pressed my palm to my chest.Olivia’s knowing smile didn’t help.
“I think you need to breathe,” Olivia said.
“Livvy, I’m fine,” I clipped out.
“That’s why you’re gripping your glass like a weapon?”
I forced my hand to relax.
“Creed really did this for Mommy?”she asked.
“Apparently.”
“And you’re mad because...?”
I turned toward her, jaw tightening.“Because he didn’t ask me.”
“Or are you mad because you still want him?”
My eyes narrowed.“You’re not helping, Livvy.”
She grinned.“Oh, but it’s so much fun.”
I took a steadying breath, glancing toward the other side of the room where Creed stood.He was speaking to a man in a dark suit, his expression calm, unreadable.But his gaze slid toward me like a magnet finding its charge.
I should have looked away.
