Page 120 of Broken Romeo
I spin to look back over my shoulder to where he and Missy had been only minutes ago. “How’d you get here so fast? You were just over there in a photo op—”
He gives me a devilish smile. “It’s not that big of a room, Katherine. It only takes about twenty seconds to walk across it.”
Inwardly, I snort at his naive remark. It may only take twenty seconds for me to walk across this room because I don’t get stopped by anyone. But not Holden. Not one of Broadway’s most esteemed stars and newest directors.
I inhale sharply and allow my eyes to roam over his body. His suit should be illegal. No man should look as good as he does. Whether he’s in this Givenchy suit, or dressed down in a t-shirt, the man oozes sex and power. He always has.
It has nothing to do with the clothes on his body and everything to do with the gleam in his eyes, the confidence in his swagger, and maybe most effectively, the walls he erects around himself. He creates intrigue everywhere he goes. Women want to know him, and men want to emulate him.
“You look gorgeous.” Holden’s whisper drags heavily down my spine. “That dress… fuck.”
A primal urge grips my insides. “I would say, it’d look better on the floor of your bedroom, but it looks like you may officially be leaving here with someone else.”
His eyes widen at my brazen comment. With Holden, I never used to hold back. He’s the one guy I’d been able to say exactly what I wanted to say to time and time again. Until it all crashed down on us in college.
But I haven’t been that girl in years. Not with him. Not with anyone. The direct statement is creaky coming from me, like an unoiled hinge.
“Missy means nothing to me. It was a photo for the New York Post. That’s all.”
My brows lift. I’m not sure I believe him. Then again, he’s got no reason to lie. “That expectation will only stop if you stop the rumors from perpetuating, Holden. Besides, you two looked really cozy to me.”
“I could say the same about you and Brooks.”
He has me there. I take another big gulp of my drink, letting the sugary alcohol coat my throat and ease my nerves. They don’t call it liquid courage for nothing.
“It was just a photo,” I say, repeating his words.
“Exactly.” His eyes flash and a smile edges higher on his lips. “Missy and I are here as friends… just like you and Nolan. It’s for publicity.”
Then, he adds, “And while I may be here with Missy, I want to leave with you. In fact, I’m desperate to leave with you, Katherine.” He draws a line down my bare arm with the back of his knuckle, the metal of his ring cool against my flesh.
Tingles caress my skin like a thousand kisses.
He dips his mouth to my ear, the heat of his breath skimming over me as he speaks. “Come home with me. Now. Neither of us wants to be here anyway. We can be at my place in fifteen minutes.”
The heady promise resonates between my legs and with every fiber of my body, I want to say yes to him. But then I catch a glimpse of Nolan across the room. And so many other Broadway actors, producers, and composers.
I need to stay. I need to come out of my shell and network. Make the most of these moments while I have them. I can’t become blinded by the fog that is a Holden-induced orgasm.
“I can’t leave yet,” I say. After taking a sip of my Cosmo to calm my nerves, I look up into his amber eyes over the rim of the glass.
“I can introduce you to anyone at this party another time.” Heat flashes in his eyes.
With a graceful arch of my eyebrow, I hold his stare steadily. “Even your father?”
A growl is the only response I get.
“That’s what I thought.”
Somewhere to my left, I hear a gasp. Then our names. “Holden? Kate?”
We jump back from each other, spinning to find Keith—the grad student and playwright from college standing before us.
“Keith!” Holden’s practiced smile is back as he leans forward and shakes Keith’s hand.
I, on the other hand, rush forward, hugging Keith hard. “Oh, my God!”
“Little Kate Harris!” Keith laughs. “Wow, I haven’t seen you in—”