Chapter 33 Heartbeats Don't Lie
The forest had darkened considerably by the time Ethan and I gathered ourselves. The golden hour had passed, replaced by deepening blues and purples filtering through the ancient redwoods. I glanced at my watch—7:30 PM.
"The park closed at six," I said, a wave of anxiety washing over me. "How are we going to get out?"
"Don't worry," Ethan replied, his voice calm and assured. "We'll get out."
I winced as I tried to stand. My legs felt like jelly, partly from our hike and partly from... other activities. Every muscle protested as I took a tentative step forward.
"Come here," Ethan said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll carry you down."
Before I could object, he turned and crouched slightly, waiting. With my aching legs, I had little choice. I carefully climbed onto his broad back, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of his muscles beneath me.
He started down the trail with confident steps that never faltered, even with my added weight. His breathing remained steady and controlled. I rested my chin on his shoulder, inhaling the woodsy scent that clung to his skin.
The trail wound downward through the silent forest, our presence marked only by the soft crunch of Ethan's footsteps on fallen needles.
When we finally reached the park entrance, I was surprised to see the gates still open. A uniformed security guard stood at attention, straightening immediately when he spotted us.
"Mr. Bennett, your vehicle is ready," he said with a deferential nod.
Ethan acknowledged him with a simple "Thank you" as we passed through the gate toward the waiting black SUV—the only vehicle in the otherwise empty lot.
I said nothing as Ethan helped me into the passenger seat, but questions tumbled through my mind. If I asked, I knew he would explain how he'd arranged for the park to remain open past closing time, just for us. But he wouldn't volunteer the information, wouldn't boast about his influence. The casual display of power reminded me once again of the gulf between our worlds.
By the time we reached the Beverly Hills Hotel, it was after ten. My body ached pleasantly from the day's activities as I spent nearly an hour in the marble shower, letting hot water soothe my muscles before blow-drying my hair. When I finally emerged from the bathroom in the hotel's silk robe, it was past eleven.
I feigned exhaustion, lying on my side facing the window with my eyes closed. My heart beat a little faster as I heard Ethan close his laptop and turn off the main lights, leaving only the warm glow of the bedside lamp.
The mattress dipped as he slid in beside me. His hand came to rest on my hip, warm through the thin silk.
"I know you're not sleeping," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear.
I didn't respond, keeping my breathing even.
"You don't have to pretend," he continued, his voice gentle. "We won't do anything. Just sleep."
Relief washed through me as I turned to face him. "Thank you," I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Goodnight."
His eyes, dark in the dim light, studied me before he pulled me against his chest. "Goodnight, Olivia."
I woke to sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The space beside me was empty, and a momentary panic gripped me.
"Ethan?" I called, my voice echoing in the suite.
He appeared from the living area, phone still in hand. "You're awake. Our flight is at eight tonight. We still have half a day to spend here."
I stretched. "There's nothing interesting to do here. Can we just head to the airport now?"
"Where are we going first?" I asked as we sat on the hotel's terrace for breakfast.
Ethan looked up from his coffee. "Where would you like to go?"
I laughed. "I've never traveled internationally. I don't even know what's good."
He reached across the table, his fingers entwining with mine. His eyes locked with mine, intense and serious. "This time I'll lead. But for every year after, you'll choose where we go."
"Okay," I replied softly.
Ethan's smile deepened, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at me. The naked want in his gaze made heat rise to my cheeks.
"Stop looking at me like that," I protested, dropping my eyes to my plate.
"Like what?" His voice was innocent, but his thumb traced circles on my palm.
I didn't answer. My heart pounded in my chest, a rapid flutter that made it hard to breathe. A wave of panic washed over me as I kept my eyes fixed on my breakfast. What was happening to me? Was I actually starting to fall for him?
By noon, we were in a luxury car driven by Robert Morelli, a prominent San Diego developer who seemed pathetically eager to please Ethan.
"It's an honor to be of service, Mr. Bennett," Morelli said, his voice practically dripping with deference.
We bypassed the regular routes to San Diego International Airport, taking a private access road that avoided all traffic. Upon arrival, we were escorted through a separate terminal where staff stood at attention, waiting for us. There was no security line, no passport control—just a seamless procession through private checkpoints into a luxurious waiting lounge.
Witnessing this reality check cooled the warmth I'd been feeling toward Ethan. Living in his golden cage at Oakwood Estate had insulated me from truly seeing his power. Now, watching business leaders from financial headlines bend over backward for him, I was confronted with just how powerful Ethan Bennett really was.
In the private lounge, I stretched out on an Italian leather sofa. "I don't want to go anywhere. I'm tired."
Ethan sat beside me, leaning in for a kiss. I pushed him away. "Not here, we're in public."
With a low laugh, he pulled me up and guided me to a private washroom within the lounge. He lifted me onto the counter, bracing his hands on either side of me, and leaned in to capture my mouth.
I didn't resist. With Ethan, when he wanted something, resistance only provoked him. When he finally pulled back, I whispered, "What's gotten into you?"
"I want you," he murmured against my ear.
"Why so suddenly?"
"Yesterday wasn't enough."
My face flushed as I changed the subject. "Where are we going? On our trip?"
"South Africa first, for diamonds," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "Then Iceland to see the Northern Lights. We don't have much time, so just two places."
"Getting married?" I teased, immediately regretting the words.
His gaze grew more intense. "When you're ready, we will."
I turned my head away. "Be serious."
His finger hooked under the thin strap of my dress, pulling it down as he lowered his mouth to my shoulder. Any thought of protest dissolved as his lips traced a path across my skin.