Chapter 172
Aria's POV
The echo of Chloe's furious protests faded as security escorted her from the private room. Owen remained slumped on the couch, too intoxicated to process what had just happened. I wiped the sticky alcohol from my face with the back of my hand, the expensive bourbon stinging my eyes.
The abrupt silence felt heavy. Devon stood motionless by the door, his expression unreadable as his gray eyes assessed the situation. I hadn't asked for his help—hadn't even known he was at Eden tonight.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, breaking the silence. "Our arrangement doesn't include rescuing me from catty socialites."
Devon's gaze swept over my ruined silk blouse, lingering on the dampness that clung to the fabric. His lip curled slightly. "Pathetic," he said, though I couldn't tell if he meant Owen, Chloe, or me. "Next time someone treats you that way, don't just stand there taking it. Tell them you're Devon Kane's woman."
Something in my chest tightened at his words. The possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable, yet there was something else—a protective edge I'd never experienced before. It felt unfamiliar. Warming. Dangerous.
I glanced at Owen, who had passed out completely, then back to Devon. "I should go."
I stepped toward the door, expecting Devon to move aside. He didn't. When I looked up, he was gone. A flash of panic seized me before I forced it down. I made my way through Eden's throbbing music toward the exit, scanning for any sign of him.
At the elevator bank, I finally spotted Devon speaking quietly to the head of security. Relief washed over me, followed immediately by confusion. Why did I care where he'd gone?
"I need a car," I said when I reached him, keeping my voice steady despite the bourbon drying tacky on my skin and clothes. "Preferably before this stains permanently."
Devon turned slowly, his eyes sliding over my disheveled appearance once more. "You can't go home like that," he stated flatly. "My room is upstairs. Go shower and change."
It wasn't a request. It was a command.
"I'd rather just—"
"Upstairs, Aria." His tone left no room for argument.
The elevator ride was silent. Devon stood with precise distance between us, but I felt hyperaware of his presence, of the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the sour smell of bourbon on my clothes. His private suite occupied the entire top floor of Eden—a fact I hadn't known until the elevator opened directly into a minimalist foyer.
The room beyond was elegantly sparse. Devon gestured toward a door. "Bathroom's through there."
Under the hot spray of an obscenely large shower, I scrubbed away the bourbon and my lingering embarrassment. Only when I stepped out, wrapped in a plush towel, did I realize my predicament—I had nothing to wear. Cautiously opening the bathroom door, I found my clothes gone and nothing to replace them.
With no choice, I ventured into the bedroom wearing only the towel. Devon sat on a black leather sofa, swirling amber liquid in a crystal tumbler, his jacket and tie discarded. His eyes darkened when he saw me.
"Where are my clothes?" I asked, clutching the towel tighter.
"Being cleaned," he replied, taking a slow sip. "There's a shirt in the closet."
The only option was one of his white dress shirts. It covered the essentials but left my legs bare, the hem barely reaching mid-thigh. I felt exposed, vulnerable, as I stepped back into the living area.
Devon's gaze traveled slowly up my legs when I emerged, and something predatory flashed across his face. "Come here," he said, patting his lap.
"I should call a car," I protested weakly.
"Come. Here." Each word was precisely measured.
I approached cautiously, but before I could decide what to do, he caught my wrist and pulled me smoothly onto his lap. His hand moved to my thigh, tracing circles on my bare skin.
"So eager to play games?" he murmured against my ear. "First with Owen, now dressed like this?"
"I'm not—" I stammered, feeling heat rise in my cheeks. "You didn't leave me anything else to wear."
His thumb brushed over the beauty mark on my collarbone, sending an involuntary shiver through me. "Are you cold?" he asked, though his tone suggested he knew precisely what he was doing to me.
"I was trying to help Sophia," I said, redirecting the conversation. "Owen's fiancée went to Carmen's apartment and showed her pictures of Owen and Sophia at some industry event. Called Sophia a homewrecker. It triggered Carmen's heart attack."
Devon's hand stilled on my thigh. "You're bringing up another man while sitting on my lap?" His voice carried a dangerous edge. Before I could respond, he lifted me effortlessly and carried me toward the bedroom.
"Your wound," I said softly, remembering the bandage beneath his shirt. "You shouldn't strain it."
Devon laid me on his massive bed, his eyes never leaving mine. "Strange," he said, unbuttoning his shirt, "when I'm with you, it doesn't hurt at all."
His mouth claimed mine with bruising intensity, hands exploring with proprietary confidence. I told myself this was just our arrangement, nothing more—even as my body arched toward him, craving his touch. He seemed intent on proving something, pushing me to the edge repeatedly, refusing to let me come down from one peak before building toward the next.
Hours later, I collapsed against him, utterly spent. Devon, somehow still energized, disappeared into the bathroom. I drifted off immediately, exhaustion claiming me.
Morning light streamed through the windows when a sharp knock jarred me awake. Devon, freshly showered and immaculately dressed, opened the door to reveal Marcus holding shopping bags.
"The items you requested, sir," Marcus said, his eyes briefly meeting mine before returning to Devon.
Devon took the bags without comment. "Perhaps we should keep a selection of women's clothing in the apartment," Marcus suggested. "For convenience."
Devon's posture shifted subtly. "You seem unusually concerned about Ms. Harper's comfort, Marcus."
"Simply thinking practically, sir."
"Tell Owen to stop hiding behind me," Devon said, changing the subject abruptly. "If I see him causing problems for Sophia or Carmen again, he'll answer to me directly."