There was finally a break in the conversation. I sat back in my chair, taking a brief second to gather myself enough to turn to my left. I was thankful I could be quiet, even if it wouldn’t last. Mr Collins had pulled Lady Devereaux into a conversation about war orphans, leaving me free to speak to one of the few people at the table I actually wanted to talk to. My gaze slid to Dom, only to find him staring straight back at me with a wide grin on his face.
At moments like this, I usually felt a sense of ease to know he was with me rather than heat fluttering through me at the warmth coming from him.
I passed it off as my own weakness. Today was especially hard, considering we hadn’t only gathered for brunch, but that my mum was hosting it to celebrate my grandmother’s passing.
Or commemorate.
What Mum actually wanted to do was use the Fischer Summer Gala next week as her stage to make a stand against me, but it was already reserved for the announcement of the vote. So she hijacked her own brunch to use it as an excuse to laud about all the good she had done since she’d taken over The Foundation from my grandmother, before my wicked attempts to rip it from her grasp began.
Dad sat next to her, thin-lipped. He wouldn’t openly chastise her for using his mother’s name for her own benefit. He did it every year at home after brunch, and it never had any effect. Mum had grown immune to his criticism.
“Alright?” Dom asked, cocking his head, his eyes lit with amusement. He enjoyed these meals far more than I did. “Still holding out?” He kept his voice low to prevent any eavesdroppers. The guests were awful for gossip.
“Mostly.” I shot a look down the full stretch of the table, taking in all the faces, most of them chatting and murmuring, soaking up the atmosphere. The head of the table where the real business took place. “Though I wouldn’t say no to something fruity right about now. I’d love to see Mum deal with me asking for a cocktail.”
“Harry! It’s only 11AM.” He grinned, lifting his flute of champagne in a mock toast, taking a long sip as I smiled in return.
“I’m still surprised she put you next to me,” I said, unable to ignore how his lazy smile tremored through me.
“Well…” Dom sneaked his arm forwards to swipe his place card between two fingers, flicking it upwards. “I might have done some rearranging during pre-drinks.” He threw me a wink, and I tempered my laugh so we didn’t attract any onlookers.
“You’ll get in so much trouble for that. You know how precious Mum is about her seating arrangements.”
“What am I? Five?” Dom rolled his eyes. “Come on, the worst Mallory will do is give me the evil eye and then shove me at the bottom of the table with the B-listers. I’ll be fine.”
“And what about me? How will I cope without you?”
All of a sudden, the air around us shifted.
My breath trapped in the back of my throat, my heart jumping as a dark heat surged from him. I froze, left stranded as he caught me.
Seconds passed as my body tightened, my eyes wide as his gaze reached into the depths within myself that had only awoken a week ago. It had been dancing at the edges of my thoughts, a hungry need that hunted me, asking to be fulfilled. And it was rearing its head as the world disappeared around us.
But it wasn't meant to be for him.
Dom was supposed to brush it off, maybe flirt a bit. Instead, he captured me. My racing heart was all I could hear as Dom let out a shuddering sigh. I’d only seen him look like that once before, directly after I choked in the pub and looked to find his cock straining against his trousers.
My breath flooded into my lungs, the room shimmering back into focus as I went to ask him why he'd suddenly become so serious. But, by the time I opened my mouth, his shining smile had returned, and he gave me a playful look.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ve got lovely Lady Devereaux to keep you company.”
Dom bent forward, and nodded to her. I turned just as she shot him one of her wicked grins from my other side.
“That’s exactly what I need.” She chuckled. “A nice, strong man like Dominic Outrem to keep me entertained at night.”
“Oh, Miss Devereaux, you already know I can’t handle you. I’m far too pretty for your tricks.” Dom laughed.
“Hush, boy.” She giggled like a young girl. “You have no idea what I was getting up to when I was your age,” she said wistfully. “Oh, the parties we had.”
“Do you remember the Hamptons in ‘76?” Lord Hastings cut in from across the table to grab her attention. Her gaze flicked to him, and we were freed as the two of them fell into another round of reminiscing about the old days.
“Good,” I whispered to Dom, “I thought I was going to end up in another one of those conversations about the pool boys at Bad Ragaz or the waiters at The Ivy.”
“But those are the best conversations.” He smirked, and I relaxed again. The dark look was gone, and I didn’t want to address it, at least not now. It had been so intense that I was left shaken.
Dom pushed his back against the chair as he dipped his head. “Ah, one second,” he said. He moved towards me, and I leant back instantly, half giving him room, half unsure of what would happen if he touched me. Because that feeling was still wavering in me. A want, a need… for Dom.
“What is it?” I asked.
