“Michele. I’m going to need to take Jill away from you right now.”
He turns to me and offers his hand. “Dance with me.” He holds my gaze with his deep blue eyes and says it with such tenderness that I simply nod a yes. He takes my hand, and pulls me away from his sister, and soon my hands are on his shoulders and his are on my waist.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you think? Because of her.”
“It was about work. The Pinkertons are considering doing a movie of World Enough and Time and they approached me about directing, and they’re talking to Madeline about reprising her role.”
“Do you want to do it?”
“I’m not sure. That’s what Madeline was asking about with me. She was trying to convince me, but I’m not entirely sure I want to go back to something I’ve already worked on.”
“Was she convincing?” I ask and I can’t hide the jealousy.
“Are you jealous?”
“Yes,” I say, letting my irritation show. I want him to know that I don’t like her being around. He’s mine.
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“Say it, Jill.”
I sigh heavily, then manage to get the words out. “Because I don’t want anyone else to have you. Just like how you feel about me.”
He lowers his voice more, his words only for me. “Nobody else has me. Nobody else will. Nobody else can.”
I close my eyes for a moment. There are too many warring emotions in me, battling with each other. “Your sister told me to stay away from you,” I tell him, because I know he loves his sister, but I want to know too that he disagrees with her directive.
“Did she?”
I nod as we sway in a small circle.
“Are you going to stay away?”
“It doesn’t seem that way, does it?”
“Don’t stay away,” he says, his strong hand on my waist bringing me a bit closer to him.
“I should ignore your sister?” I ask, as if I’m challenging him, because I am. I don’t like all these women who have their hooks into him in different ways.
“Ignore her.”
“What about Madeline?”
“It’s just work. I don’t feel anything for her anymore. How could I?” he says with such certainty, such confidence. “Everything I feel is for you.”
A heady feeling swoops through me, and I don’t know what it is. It’s so different from how I felt about Patrick for so long. It feels like I’m flying, and like I’m being cut open at the same time. As if I can feel all the good things and all the awful things at once. I don’t know what’s going on, especially since he moves his hand from my waist to the open V on my back. He doesn’t say anything, and my mouth is too dry to speak. He strokes my back with his finger, sending shivers radiating across my skin.
“You’re touching me,” I say in a low voice, as Jane and Michael sing about falling so deeply you can’t go back. The song might as well have been written for me right now. I can’t go back to who I was. I can’t go back to my carefully constructed self. But more than that, I don’t want to return to the Jill I was before. I have to be this new person who doesn’t have a mask or a costume to hide behind. If I want to have the things on the other side, I have to start anew. “Do you think everyone knows?” I ask.
“Knows what?”
“How we feel.”
“How do you feel?”
“I think you know,” I say, and we haven’t once looked away from each other. The connection between us is so intense it’s like nothing else exists but us and this tiny little patch of the Terrace Room where we barely move our feet, and dancing is just a euphemism for being able to touch each other in public, even if it’s only a hand on a shoulder. But that bit of contact with him makes me tipsy.
“I think I’d rather hear it from you.”
“Davis,” I say, but that’s all. I can’t get any more words out.
“This song,” he says and now there’s a touch of nerves in his voice. But he pushes through them. “This song is for you. I asked them to sing it for you.”
And that’s when I know. That’s when I feel it all through my body and my heart and my mind. I feel everything. Like all the pieces that encased my pretending heart shear off and splinter to the ground, leaving me with only the real thing, because these words, this song about two people falling in love is all too true, and all too real, and there’s nothing fake about it, and nothing happening from afar. It’s happening right here, to me, and I can barely even comprehend how I might feel when there are no more walls. But I need him. I need to be close to him. I need to touch him.
“I can’t be on this dance floor with you right now.” I can hardly get air. I’m overcome with all these feelings crashing through my body.
“Are you okay?”
“I need to be alone with you for a minute.”
He places a hand on my lower back and guides me out of the Terrace Room, down the hall and to a nearby bathroom. He opens the door, shuts it and locks it. He looks me over like he wants to kiss me senseless from head to toe. Everything is electric between us as I wait in that sliver of a moment for him.
Then he leans into me, pushes one strap off my shoulder and kisses my bare skin. I am light-headed and woozy. I want so much more, but even the slightest touch sends me into another world. He rains hot shivery kisses all along my shoulder and to my neck, blazing a trail up to my ear.
“Are you finally going to put me out of my misery?” I might be begging, but I don’t care. I’m beyond ready for him. The question is—is he ready for me?
His lips brush my earlobe, and I think he’s about to whisper a yes in my ear. Instead, he breaks the contact and pulls back to look at me, his dark eyes seeing me as I truly am. As the woman who wants only him, and he finally knows it, and finally believes it. He is as stripped bare as I am right now with this need we have for each other that’s become so consuming. I am on edge, holding my breath for an answer.
“Yes. Tonight.”
Tonight.
It’s finally going to happen. The possibility of being with him is terrifying and thrilling at the same time. Then we smash into each other and we kiss in a frenzy, as if we are claiming each other, marking this moment when everything is so completely clear between us. His hands are on my face instantly, and his tongue is searching my lips, my mouth, and I can’t get enough of him. I want to crawl up him, and wrap my legs around him, and slam him into me. Instead, he pushes me against the wall, trapping me with his body, the way I like it.