Chapter 188
Aria's POV
I pressed myself closer to the pillar as Mandy appeared, hurrying toward him in four-inch heels. Her golden hair bounced with each step.
Devon stopped but didn't turn immediately. His shoulders tensed visibly. When he finally faced her, his expression was completely blank, his eyes cold and distant as if addressing a stranger rather than his mother's chosen match.
"Eleanor specifically arranged our dinner tonight," Mandy continued, slightly breathless.
Devon's voice was cold enough to freeze the air between them. "And what does that have to do with me?" Each word fell like an ice cube between them. His hands remained in his pockets, his body angled away from her—everything about his stance rejected her presence.
Mandy's confident smile faltered for just a moment. "You know our families have been discussing our match for months."
"That's your mother's plan with my mother," Devon replied, his tone flat as if discussing the weather. "Not mine." His jaw tightened slightly, the only indication that the conversation affected him at all.
He turned toward his car, dismissing her as completely as if she'd ceased to exist. Mandy's face transformed from shock to practiced sweetness as she reached for his arm. "Devon, don't be difficult. Everyone knows we're perfect for—"
Devon started the engine before she could finish. The Maybach reversed with such precision that it missed Mandy's foot by inches. She stumbled backward, losing her balance and falling onto the concrete floor. Her ankle twisted awkwardly beneath her.
"Devon Kane, you'll regret this!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the garage. "I will have you eventually!"
I stayed hidden until Mandy limped toward the elevator, cursing under her breath. My pulse quickened—I'd never seen anyone dismiss another person so completely, so coldly. It frightened me and, embarrassingly, excited me too.
Just as I considered leaving—assuming Devon had gone—my phone vibrated with a text: "Front entrance. Now."
My heart hammered against my ribs as I made my way to the hotel's main entrance. The Maybach was idling at the curb, Devon sitting motionless behind the wheel. I hesitated for just a moment before opening the passenger door and sliding in.
The interior smelled of expensive leather and his subtle cologne. Devon didn't look at me, just put the car in drive and pulled smoothly into traffic. The silence stretched between us, taut and electric. I could feel the heat radiating from his body across the console, making me acutely aware of every inch between us.
"Aren't you afraid of Mandy?" he finally asked, his voice impossibly low, a rumble I could almost feel against my skin.
I swallowed hard. "I just didn't want any drama." My voice sounded small even to my own ears.
A mocking smile played at the corner of his mouth, transforming his severe features. "You're already in deep drama, Miss Harper." His eyes flickered briefly to me, then back to the road.
The car accelerated suddenly, forcing me forward. My hand instinctively reached out to brace myself, landing on his thigh. We both froze at the contact. I could feel the heat of his body through the expensive fabric of his trousers, the firm muscle beneath my fingers. Neither of us moved for several heartbeats. I watched his knuckles whiten as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. My breathing became shallow, and I couldn't bring myself to withdraw my hand immediately, despite knowing I should.
Devon drove through Manhattan with confident precision, finally pulling into the private garage. Without a word, he handed me a key, our fingers brushing. The brief contact sent electricity up my arm.
"Open it," he commanded, nodding toward the private elevator. His voice was deeper now, rougher around the edges.
I did as instructed, confused but strangely compliant. The elevator opened directly into his penthouse.
I barely had time to take it in before Devon pressed me against the closing door, his body firm against mine. His lips found mine with an urgency that took my breath away. This kiss was different from the one in the gazebo—deeper, more demanding, consuming. His hands slid to my waist, fingers digging slightly into my flesh, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. I could feel every plane of his body pressed against mine, hard and unyielding.
Despite my earlier hesitation, my hands found their way to his shoulders, no longer pushing away but drawing him closer. I clutched at the expensive fabric of his jacket, feeling the solid muscle beneath. I could feel his heart beating against mine, rapid and strong, matching my own frantic rhythm. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, demanding entry which I granted with a small, involuntary sound from the back of my throat.
When he finally broke the kiss, his gray eyes had darkened to nearly black, pupils dilated. A vulnerability flickered behind his usual coldness that I'd never seen before, quickly replaced by naked hunger. His breathing was ragged, matching my own.
His fingertips traced a path from my collarbone to my waist, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I shivered under his touch, my body responding against my better judgment. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted me into his arms and carried me toward what I assumed was his bedroom. The strength with which he held me, as if I weighed nothing, sent a thrill through my body.
Just as we crossed the threshold, his phone rang. Devon ignored it, his eyes still fixed on mine, but it persisted. With a frustrated growl, he set me on the edge of the bed but remained standing between my knees. He checked the screen.
"Mother," he muttered, jaw tightening in irritation. He considered for a moment before answering on speaker, setting the phone on the nightstand. "What?"
Eleanor Kane's crisp, authoritative voice filled the room. "Devon, Mandy twisted her ankle in the parking garage. You must go to the hospital to see her. It's your responsibility."
Devon's eyes never left mine as he replied, "No." The single syllable contained years of resistance. But even as he spoke, his free hand slid up my thigh, pushing beneath the hem of my dress.
I bit my lip hard to stay silent, my eyes widening in alarm. His fingers continued their exploration, tracing patterns on my sensitive skin. My breath hitched involuntarily.
"Devon, this isn't a request. The Stevens family is—" Eleanor paused. "What was that sound? Is someone there with you?"
Devon's hand stilled momentarily, but his eyes held a dangerous amusement as he watched me struggle to keep quiet. "Just a stray cat," he replied smoothly, his fingers resuming their teasing path upward. "It sometimes wanders onto my balcony."
I pressed my hand against my mouth, feeling my face flush with heat. The mixture of fear at being discovered and the exhilaration of his touch was overwhelming. Devon leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear as his mother continued speaking about obligations and family alliances.
"Make another sound," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, "and I'll tell her exactly what I'm doing to you."
The threat sent a shiver of both terror and arousal through me. I closed my eyes, fighting for control.
"I said no." He ended the call and tossed the phone aside as if the interruption had never happened. His focus returned entirely to me, his gaze so intense it seemed to burn through my skin. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and inexplicably safe all at once.
"Now," he said, voice low and commanding as he moved toward me. "Where were we?"