Traded(28)

The bell dinged and the doors opened, breaking the connection for only a second before he placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me out of the elevator, toward voices that came from the other side of what looked to be a front door. My stomach was buzzing with butterflies, which only got worse when Ashton bypassed knocking and pushed the door, revealing a group of people sitting around, drinking and enjoying each other’s company.

“Ashton.”

An older version of the man beside me stood from the couch, his eyes zeroing in on me as he moved around the furniture to join us in the entryway. “And you must be Elena.” He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“That’s me.”

For the second time in an hour, a blush burned my face. So much for being self-assured. Not even a minute in and I was already tongue-tied. “It’s nice to meet you . . .” The blush on my face intensified. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even thought to ask Ashton his father’s name.

He laughed. “Call me Malcolm. Come, let’s introduce you to everyone else.”

He kept hold of my hand and walked me into the room. Everyone’s eyes were on me. Even after all the years I’d spent on stage, center of attention, it still made me nervous to be in a roomful of people. It didn’t help that I hadn’t been on a stage in at least five years, if not more.

“Elena, this is my son, Miller.”

A very attractive man with dark hair reached out his hand to me and let out a low whistle as his fingers tightened around mine. “Holy shit, Ashton, you failed to mention she was fucking gorgeous.”

Malcolm smacked Miller upside the back of his head. “Language.”

“Sorry, Dad, but look at her.”

Miller gestured toward me and, unsure of what to say, I just stood there . . . mute. I was so caught up in what was going on around me that I missed Ashton step up behind me. “What did I tell you?” he whispered, his hot breath on my ear making me want to groan. I suppressed a shudder and focused on Malcolm, who was introducing me to a woman with long blonde hair.

“Elena, this is my sister, Veronica.”

The woman smiled and, dispensing with any kind of formality, she stepped forward to wrap me in a hug. “I’m so glad to meet you. I would love to get a chance to talk later.”

“Of course.” I couldn’t imagine what she might want to talk about, but she was Ashton’s aunt and as a guest in his family home it would be rude to question her.

She gestured toward the man next to her. “This is my husband, Samuel.”

I held my hand out and he clasped it in his own. “It’s nice to meet you. Ashton, good to see you again.”

Ashton gave his aunt a hug and shook Samuel’s hand before asking, “Mom’s in the kitchen?”

Malcolm laughed. “Where else did you think she would be?”

Ashton lightly touched my elbow. “Will you be okay here, if I go help Mom finish dinner?”

What was I supposed to say? I knew Ashton loved to cook and his food was fabulous. “Sure.”

“She’ll be fine,” Veronica spoke up. “We don’t bite.”

Ashton shook his head, his tongue darting out to swipe over his white teeth and flashbacks of that tongue on mine in the car nearly had my knees buckling. “I’ll be right through there if you need me.” He pointed toward a set of double white doors and waited for me to respond.

“I’ll be fine. You go.”

“Elena, come sit with me.” Veronica turned to Malcolm. “Can you get us each a glass of Chardonnay?”

“Anything for you ladies.” Malcolm immediately moved to fetch our drinks. It wasn’t hard to see where Ashton had learned his manners. It must be a family trait.

As he waited on us, I realized that Malcolm did not fit any of the molds I’d tried to place him in before we arrived, but while he had been extremely kind to me since we arrived, I had a feeling that under the surface was a man not to be tangled with. He bore the demeanor of a man used to getting what he wanted. He’d protect and defend what was his, no matter the cost.

Not wanting offend Veronica, I took the seat on her other side.

“Samuel, I need you to look over an account for me.” I turned at Miller’s voice, watching him turn to Malcolm. “Dad, can we use your office?”

“Sure,” he called over his shoulder. “Let me finish getting these ladies their drinks and I’ll meet you there.”

Making his apologies, Samuel stood and followed Miller down another hall, just as Malcolm returned and handed us each a glass. “Thank you,” I said, taking hold of the stem, grateful for something to do with my shaking hands. I might have told Ashton I was fine but that didn’t mean the nerves hadn’t returned in full force.