Denied
Page 82

 Jodi Ellen Malpas

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As I make my way up the frosted glass steps, I glance over my shoulder and smile when I see Tony standing where I’ve just fled, looking around in confusion. He leans over the bar and speaks to the barman, who quickly shrugs before tending to a waiting customer. I see Tony bash his fist on the glass counter of the bar and swing around, scanning the club. Smug, I continue on my way until I round the corner and break the threshold of the giant glass wall, finding myself among a sea of people laughing, drinking and chatting, none of them taking a bit of notice of the stunning outlook.
I take a sip of my champagne and wait, and I don’t have to wait for long. I catch the eye of a guy across the terrace and smile coyly before slowly turning away from him to enjoy the view.
‘Alone?’
I leisurely pivot on my heels, coming face to face with him. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a white shirt. My eyes drag the entire length of his body until I’m at his face. It’s a handsome face – clean-shaven and fresh, and his short brown hair is longer on top, combed to the side.
‘You?’ I ask, relaxing in my pose and taking my glass to my lips.
He smiles a little and directs me to the edge of the terrace, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. There are no internal sparks ricocheting around my body from his touch, but he’s a man and that’s all I need.
‘Danny.’ He leans down and pecks each of my cheeks. ‘You are?’
‘Livy.’ I glance up to the camera and smile as he takes his time introducing himself.
‘Pleasure to meet you, Livy,’ he says as he pulls away. ‘I love your dress.’
I’ve no doubt he loves it. It’s tight and short. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ His eyes sparkle.
We spend a short while chatting and I reciprocate when he smiles and laughs, finding it easy, but not because I’m attracted to him. It’s because I know cameras are focused on me from every direction, recording everything and saving it for Miller’s eyes once he’s returned from Paris.
‘Is there a protocol you like to follow?’
I struggle to prevent my brow from furrowing in confusion. ‘You mean whether I’d like you to take me for dinner or just take me to bed?’
He smirks. ‘I’m happy to do both.’
My confidence wavers momentarily, but I quickly rein it in. ‘We’ll call the strawberry dinner.’ I tip my flute and catch the fruit, making a point of chewing it slowly and swallowing even slower.
He follows suit and mimics my actions with a knowing smile. ‘It’s a stunning view.’ He tips his empty glass towards the open space beyond, and I follow his indication to look.

‘I agree,’ I muse, ‘but I can think of far better ways to spend the rest of the evening.’ My boldness should stun me, but it doesn’t. I’m on a mission – a dangerous mission. Miller isn’t the only one with a mask. This is too easy.
Turning my eyes back to Danny, my lips tip seductively and he moves in, slowly lowering his face to mine until our lips brush. In an attempt to maintain my cool confidence, I close my eyes and conjure up images of Miller. It’s weak and pathetic, but it’s the only way I’ll see through my cruel actions. Danny’s lips don’t help me achieve my objective; they feel and taste nothing like Miller’s, yet I don’t hold back. I let him kiss me, and I relish only in the knowledge of what this will do to the man I love – the man who I know loves me but is too much of a weak coward to fight for it.
‘My place,’ Danny mumbles against my lips, slipping his palm onto my bottom. I nod against him and he immediately takes my hand to start leading me from the terrace. Miller Hart has ignited a dormant recklessness. I’ve proven William right. I’m my mother’s daughter, and the realisation should send me into meltdown, but the only meltdown I predict is the cold reality of my life without Miller in it. He’s a massive mess of complications and challenges, yet I crave him and all of the obstacles that accompany him.
We take the stairs, me following Danny, until we hit the ground floor. He pushes his way through the crowd, eager to escape the roar of people and gain some privacy. But then he halts and stuns me by kissing me again, humming into my mouth on a sigh. ‘I might do that a few more times before we make it out of here,’ he says, gently pushing his groin into my stomach.
I don’t protest, mainly because I’m jumping all over the fact that there is a camera directly above us, so I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and let him have his way, my way of saying, Fine by me.
Dragging his body from mine, he reclaims my hand and leads on, stopping only a few more paces into his determined stride. But he doesn’t kiss me this time. ‘Excuse me,’ he says, trying to sidestep someone, only for them to move with him. I can’t see who it is. I don’t need to see who it is.
‘You’re not leaving with the girl.’ Tony’s gruff voice makes me sag behind Danny, but it also boosts my resolve.
Danny turns to look at me. ‘Ignore him,’ I say tightly, pushing into his back, encouraging him to move on.
‘Who is he?’
‘No one.’ I take over the lead, tugging a bemused Danny with me. Tony can’t stop me, and that will destroy Miller further.
‘Livy, quit the games.’ Tony’s annoyed growl pulls me to a stop.
‘Who said this is a game?’ I ask shortly.
‘Me.’ He steps forward, flicking warning eyes to a perplexed Danny, who’s since dropped my hand.
Danny laughs. ‘Okay, I don’t know what the craic is, but you can leave me out of it.’ He strides off, leaving Tony and me glaring at each other.
‘Smart guy.’
‘Why do you care?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Then why bother intervening?’
‘Because you’ll get yourself in trouble.’
‘I’ll find someone else,’ I spit, barging past him, my legs like jelly as I make my way back to the bar. ‘Champagne,’ I demand, once I’ve fought my way to the front. Tony appears in front of me on the other side of the bar, shooing away the barman who was set to serve me.
‘You’re not being served any more alcohol.’
My teeth grit. ‘Why don’t you mind your own business?’
He leans over the bar, his own teeth grating. ‘If you realised the damage you’re doing, you’d cut the shit, sweetheart.’
Me? Damage? My temper flares into dangerous territory. If I was operating on resentment before, then now it’s in pure, raw rage. ‘That man has destroyed me!’
‘That man is shackled, Livy!’ he yells, making me recoil. ‘And regardless of what you and he ever thought, you can’t free him.’
‘From what?’ I don’t like the resolve in Tony’s tone or the look on his round face. He sounds too certain.
‘From the invisible chains.’ He speaks in a near whisper, but I hear the words perfectly over the deafening music and crowds. My throat starts to close off. I can’t breathe. Tony is watching me absorb his statement, probably wondering what I’m making of it. I don’t know. He’s talking in code. He’s insinuating that Miller is powerless – a weak man. That’s not true. He’s very powerful, physically and mentally. I’ve experienced both.