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Chapter 406
Chapter 406:
“Are you hurt?” Easton rasped, his eyes dark and frantic as they searched hers.
June stared up at him. Her breath hitched.
“No,” she whispered.
The air between them was thick, heavy, and charged with an undeniable heat.
Uр𝘥а𝗍еѕ 𝗲𝘃𝖾𝘳𝗒 𝘄𝘦e𝗄 о𝗇
As he guided her away from the scene, Easton discreetly pulled out his phone and typed a quick, encrypted message to his head of security.
That motorcycle. Find the rider. I want to know if it was an accident by sunrise.
Easton’s hands lingered on June’s waist two seconds longer than necessary.
He slowly stepped back, giving her room to breathe, but his dark eyes never left her face. He visually inspected every inch of her, ensuring the motorcycle hadn’t clipped her.
June’s heart was still hammering violently against her ribs. A hot, uncomfortable flush crept up her neck. She looked down quickly, avoiding his intense gaze, and smoothed the front of her silk dress.
“I’m fine,” June said, her voice slightly breathless. “Thank you. Really p>
The memory of his hard chest pressing against her was permanently burned into her nerve endings.
Easton’s sharp eyes caught the faint blush on her cheeks. A deep, satisfied warmth settled in his chest.
“We need a drink to calm the adrenaline,” he said smoothly. He reached down and picked up the rabbit carrier, completely unfazed by the near-death experience.
He placed his free hand lightly against the small of June’s back. It was a gentlemanly gesture, but the heat of his palm radiated through the thin silk of her dress. He guided her gently down the block, steering her toward the glowing red awning of Balthazar.
Just as they stepped under the awning and reached for the heavy wooden doors of the famous French brasserie, a massive, pitch-black Maybach slid silently to the curb directly in front of them.
The driver’s door popped open. The chauffeur rushed around the hood and pulled the rear passenger door wide.
Cole Compton stepped out onto the pavement.
He was wearing a flawless, custom-tailored Tom Ford tuxedo, every inch of him the picture of a billionaire king stepping out to survey his city.
A second later, Alycia Beasley slid out of the car behind him, her figure poured into a tight emerald-green evening gown. She immediately reached out and wrapped her hands possessively around Cole’s bicep. His muscles tensed beneath her touch at once. A dark, suffocating wave of revulsion washed through him, but he endured it. They were obligated to attend a high-profile charity dinner hosted by Julian Thorne, and his PR team had demanded a unified, flawless public facade to bury the rumors of their recent explosive fight.
The four of them froze.
The air on the sidewalk dropped to absolute zero.
Cole’s dark eyes locked onto June. Then his gaze fell.
He saw Easton Hahn standing dangerously close to her. He saw Easton’s large hand resting intimately on the small of June’s back.
A violent, toxic explosion of pure jealousy detonated somewhere behind Cole’s eyes.