CHAPTER TEN
Dorian
Dorian grinned behind his second beer as Grace downed the rest of hers. In the dozen bays around them, more golfers swung their clubs.
The whooshes and tinks echoed behind them in a constant orchestra, muffled by the buzz from his drink. They sat next to each other on the couch behind their bay, letting the worn fabric absorb their aches and cares.
She grabbed from the cheese fries he’d ordered. The muscles in her body had relaxed, her neck now longer and elegant. She’d stretched out on the couch, her foot only inches from his leg.
The glow on her skin was so enticing, but he restrained the urge to lick it off, and inhale her sweet scent.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
She licked the cheese off her finger. “Indulgent.”
Dorian’s mouth watered.
“So, this is what you call bad behavior, huh?” She smiled.
He chuckled. “Heck no. I’m just getting you liquored up so you’ll agree to the next part.”
Grace paused, her finger on the edge of her lips. “The next part?”
“Of my plan.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she reclined against the couch. Skepticism dripped off of her like the condensation on her beer glass. But her gaze glittered, locked onto his with intent sapphires. She was intrigued.
He was hooked.
“I’m listening.”
He took a settling breath. “That video plastered everywhere is a major invasion of your privacy, I agree. But at the end of the day, it’s just a recording. You’re not running for your life with a bunch of M-16’s at your back.”
“True.”
“Yet you do have an image problem.”
Her eyes widened. “I do?”
Dorian rested his elbows on his knees. “Like it or not, your reputation’s on the line. Normally, I’d tell those assholes to screw themselves. But I’m not running a non-profit, which relies on donations.”
She finally blinked. Then pursed her lips. “True.”
He waited, to make sure that message sank in. When Grace took a deep breath, he continued. “To dispel the rumors that could derail donations, you need to be seen dating someone else. Publicly.”
Her forehead creased more. The cogs slowly turned in her mind, and she knew exactly what he implied. Because her eyes never left his, and her breathing increased a touch. When she licked her bottom lip, he almost had her convinced.
“By someone else, you mean you,” she finally returned.
“Grace Evans…” He slipped to the floor on a knee, and caressed her calf. When she didn’t pull away, his bravery bolstered. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Her face remained expressionless, her gaze piercing and breathing elevated, but even. Her pause made him doubt the sudden bravery.
“So, I’d be paying you for the boyfriend experience?”
Dorian swallowed. “No.”
She tilted her head.
“No payment.”
“Then, what do you get out of this?”
No matter how hard he tried to stop it, his smile widened. “Are you kidding? You finally agreed to go out with me. You think I’d pass on the chance to officially date you?”
Her cheeks pinked. “I can’t date an escort, Dorian. Not even for pretend. What kind of image does that give for a charity?”
“First of all, I’m a Knight.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Classier. More exclusive with a better purpose.”
“Which is?”
He held her gaze with a scintillating intensity. “To make a woman feel valued.”
Her lips parted ever so slightly.
“Secondly, no one knows my occupation except my boss, a few friends, and former clients. All of whom won’t say a thing.”
“But one Google search from a journalist, and—”
“And all they’ll find is my current address and maybe my high school picture. I’m not on any kind of social media, on purpose. One of our company’s rules is no pictures. So, you won’t see me on anyone else’s page either.”
She sighed. “I don’t know…that sounds like a recipe for more ruin.”
“You need someone with no desire for public attention, has your best interests at heart, and can effectively thwart gossip. To top it off, most of your colleagues already think we’re dating.”
“You’re forgetting one important thing.”
“What?”
“I have no interest in dating you.” She squirmed as she said it, and her eyes darted to the side.
Which partially removed some of the stabbing pain in his chest.
He cleared his throat.
“Well?” someone called from several bays over.
Both of their heads shot up to the stranger, an elderly man with his hand on his hip. His khakis were pulled up way too far over his waist. “Don’t leave that poor man on his knee all this time. Aren’t you going to say yes?”
Dorian chuckled.
Grace plastered on a disciplinarian smile, which all mothers must have mastered. “Private conversation in progress.”
The man scowled, and placed another ball on his tee.
She squeezed her hands together. “Please, don’t take this personally. What I meant is, I have no interest in dating, at all.” She placed her hand over his, on top of her knee. “That part of my life is over.”
Dorian lost all humor. “You’re not dead, Grace Evans. You’re very much alive. All you need is someone to show you life can be fun again.”
If only she could see what I see. Perfection.
Her heart rate pumped faster by the tiny vein pulsing in her neck. Her sweet perfume or soap intensified, and the tinks and whooshes around them drowned out. Her mouth was so irresistible the way she kept pressing her lips together. Even more when she kept glancing at his mouth.
Dorian could tell when a woman was intrigued. When she wanted him. He wanted her back.
“What I need is—”
“—is this.” He pressed his lips to hers. Jasmine and beer had never tasted so sweet together on her parted lips.
Her sudden, quiet gasp invigorated him. He cupped the side of her neck, tracing his thumb down her earlobe.
She opened for him when he trailed his tongue along her lip. He suckled on the tip of hers, and ventured further in. Clasping her head with both hands, he tilted against her face, tasting more. Completing the addiction to maximum overload.
She’s better than I imagined.
He pulled back with a final nip on her tongue.
Grace followed his momentum forward, her eyelashes flickering against her soft skin.
She’d gripped his arms at some point, either to keep from falling forward or off the edge entirely. No matter the reason, it spawned a raw inferno in his gut.
He would’ve smiled into her mouth if his lips weren’t so busy savoring every inch of her tongue. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. Deeper, longer, sweeter.
A few whistles broke them apart.
Her kissed-senseless expression made his heart jump.
“Looks like a yes to me,” someone commented.
“That’s how you kiss a woman,” another called.
The chuckles died off, and finally Grace opened her eyes. Her pupils dilated, and a hazy satisfaction filled her irises. Her lips were plump and pink. “Okay,” she sighed.
Dorian raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
She licked her top lip, and her breath was shaky. “Don’t make me regret this.”