Catch My Breath. Lynn Montagano
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of miles away from home. Being tracked and stalked by another over privileged, possessive rich guy wasn’t on my vacation itinerary. The walls felt like they were closing in around me, crushing my lungs. I dug my fingernails into the velvet cushion on the barstool. He was watching me? I’ve been here for an hour and he’s been in the shadows keeping tabs...
“Lia.” His voice cut through the vacuum, snapping me back to reality. Heat radiated from his eyes, drawing me closer. It muted everything else in the room and calmed my nerves.
“I simply noticed you were here with your friends while I was sidetracked by some clients. That’s all. Your sparkly dress is hard to miss.”
He had a point. The dress did scream look at me.
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
He stared at me with an unreadable expression, making my insides twist anxiously. At least last week I knew he was staring at me out of lust. This was unnerving.
“Did you have a nice time at your sister’s wedding?”
“Yeah, I did. How was your week?”
“Typical.” He angled his body closer. “Except for the fact that I spent most of it thinking about you.”
He’s a smooth operator, this one.
“Did you?”
He nodded, running his knuckles along my cheek.
“Anything you want to share?”
Sliding his fingers down my arm, he skimmed them over my hip, settling on my waist. Goosebumps poked out all over my skin. I knocked back the martini like it was a shot. It went down much too easily for such a strong drink. My face was already a bit numb from the previous ones.
He scanned the room quickly before pulling me closer.
“There is a time and a place for sharing,” he said, dipping his head closer to my ear. “This is not one of them.”
A smile evaporated from his face as he backed away from me, leaving a chill in the air between us. Puzzled, I followed his frigid gaze. I saw nothing but people enjoying themselves.
“Is something wrong?”
Alastair didn’t answer right away. His constant scanning of the lounge freaked me out a little. It was too bad that the blonde server hadn’t been by to replenish my martini. I could have used another.
“Everything’s fine,” he finally said. I met his eyes and was floored by the hardness in them. Even his expression was stony.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
There was something about the clipped, almost dismissive way he responded which bugged me. I sat on the velvet stool, swiveling to face the crowd. The room wiggled a bit thanks to my fuzzy martini brain.
“I have to take care of something. I won’t be long.”
“Can it wait?” I asked, turning back to him. He slid his cell phone in his pants pocket.
“No,” he looked at me coolly, “it can’t.”
I watched him disappear down a hallway toward the hotel entrance. Shaking off an unsettled feeling, I ordered another drink and went back to sit at the table.
“Having a good time, Lia?” Darren winked at me.
“Sure.”
“Did Alastair leave?” Stephanie asked, frowning.
“No, he’s taking care of something,” I said, waving my hand.
“How many of those have you had?” She eyed the glass.
“Not nearly enough,” I muttered.
A bunch of other people had joined the table, but I ignored the conversation. I had to know what he was doing. After a beat, I stood up and went to see what the hell was happening.
The hallway was quiet and empty. A handful of administrative offices lined one side. I walked down to the door leading to the hotel and turned around. Angry, I stormed back toward the lounge. First he’s an hour late, now he disappears. I’m all set, thanks. Out of nowhere, Alastair appeared, all smoldering and hot. Without saying a word, he pulled me into one of the offices.
“What are you—“
“Are you involved with anyone?” he interrupted.
“This is a really bizarre time for you to be asking me that.”
“Are you?”
I clenched my fists, blood churning through my veins.
“No. Why did you walk off like that?”
“It’s not important.”
He tensed, clearly uncomfortable with my question.
“Alastair, you can’t—“
“Leave it alone, Lia.”
The cold look in his eyes shut me up immediately. A detached, passive expression blanketed his face, rendering any charm or charisma obsolete. And this is my cue to leave, jackass. He grabbed my arm as I tried to walk to the door.
“Get your hands off me,” I hissed.
He sucked in a breath, as though he’d woken up from a bad dream. His grip on my arm relaxed but I didn’t leave. His eyes stopped me. They were pleading, apologizing for something far greater than just grabbing me.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” he atoned. “Did I hurt you?”
The culmination of all the martinis I’d had throughout the night paraded through my bloodstream with great fanfare, systematically shutting down my sense of logic and most motor skills. My legs wobbled.
“No. I’m fine. You just took me by surprise.” My face and lips vanished, causing me to speak much slower than normal. At least it felt that way.
“You’re going to pinch those right off.”
He pulled my hand away from my mouth. I’d been tugging my lip without even realizing it.
“They’re numb. You can feel them?"
He gently traced my lips with his thumb. “Yes. I hope you’re not pissed.”
“You think I’m mad at you?” I asked.
He tilted his head, grinning.
“Not mad. Drunk. I thought you said you knew British slang?”
“I do. I just…” I answered, trailing off. I was annoyed that I couldn’t feel my face and probably sounded like a drunken idiot. I should have just gone back to Darren’s townhouse.
“You really need to stop doing this. I can assure you, they are where they're supposed to be.”
He pulled my hand away from my mouth again.
“I can’t feel them,” I complained. “Stop laughing at me. Now I’m pissed.”
“So now you’re drunk?” He folded his arms, raising an eyebrow.
“What? No. I’m pissed. You know what I mean.”
Am I not making sense? Stupid alcohol.
“Oddly enough I do,” he said, stroking my cheek. “Why are you upset with me?”
“For starters, you were late. Then you were snippy with that guy at the bar. And now, this whole walking away with no explanation.”
“Is that all?”
“Yeah, I guess—”
He planted a lush, wet kiss squarely on my mouth. It was quick and chaste but enough