The dress had taken me two hours to choose.
Now I was suddenly very aware of every inch of it.
His eyes kept moving upward, taking in the off-the-shoulder neckline that revealed just enough cleavage before drifting higher—past my collarbone, my throat—
Then higher, until his eyes found my face.
Then my hair.
His expression changed. It softened first, then sharpened, then turned into something so openly awed that my breath caught. And then, to my complete shock, he fell to his knees.
I stopped so abruptly that I nearly lost my balance. “Callahan!”
I gathered my skirt and hurried toward him, my heart tripping over itself in confusion and embarrassment and something dangerously close to delight. “What are you doing?”
He lifted one hand before I could reach him, silently asking me to stop. I froze a step away, staring down at him. He looked up at me like I had personally descended from heaven just to ruin his sanity.
“Your beauty,” he said, his voice low and almost reverent, “made me weak.”
His lips curved into an endearing smile, and then he rose smoothly to his feet.
Up close, he was even more distracting in his perfectly tailored black tuxedo. The jacket fit his broad shoulders flawlessly, and the crisp white shirt beneath it made his dark hair and sharp jawline stand out even more.
“I don't even know how to describe how stunning you look,” he said quietly.
The sincerity in his voice made heat rush straight to my face. "You falling to your knees was explanation enough."
He chuckled as his fingers closed around mine carefully, and he guided me toward the door. The air outside was cooler than the warmth of the house, brushing lightly against my skin as we stepped out together.
The car waiting in the driveway gleamed beneath the lights. What followed was one of the most strangely flustering drives I had ever experienced.
His gaze returned to me again and again, lingering long enough each time that I could feel it even when I wasn’t looking directly at him. It made me aware of every small movement I made. The way I adjusted the fabric of my dress. The way my curls shifted over my shoulder when the car turned. The way my hands rested in his lap.
Every time I glanced his way, his eyes were already on me.
I tried to look out the window for a while, watching the city lights blur past in streaks of gold and white, but the awareness of his gaze never faded. Each time I turned back toward him, he was still watching me with the same quiet admiration.
By the time the car reached the ball’s location, I was still blushing.
The building hosting the event was beautiful, illuminated by rows of warm lights that highlighted the elegant architecture of the entrance. The car slowed to a stop near the front, where several photographers and reporters waited just beyond the velvet ropes.
Callahan stepped out first and offered his hand to help me from the car. The moment my heels touched the pavement, the cameras began flashing.
Despite the sudden attention, the atmosphere remained polite and welcoming. The reporters respectfully asked for photos, guiding us through a few poses without shouting or pushing. The flashes of cameras burst around us in quick succession, capturing image after image as we stood together beneath the lights.
Callahan remained close at my side the entire time, his presence steady and grounding as the photographers finished their requests. The brief photo session passed quickly, and soon the reporters stepped back, satisfied with the images they had captured.
Once the last camera lowered, Callahan guided me toward the entrance.
The moment we stepped inside, the press's noise faded behind us.
The venue's interior was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, scattering warm light across the polished floor below. Guests filled the ballroom in elegant gowns and perfectly tailored suits, the soft murmur of conversation blending with the distant music that drifted through the room.
For a moment, I simply took in the sight.
Then my eyes moved across the crowd, and I froze. "Is that Victoria?"
34- callahan
