Black Hearted - An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Complete)

Black Hearted: Chapter 36

While he wasn't exactly having fun, surrounded by these jackals, he didn't hate tonight. Solana made a dull evening with men in penguin suits and women tucked into dresses and high heels turn into an event worth attending. She changed everything. Infused colour into his black and white world.

At the church, as per Wolfe's instructions, they'd arrived early, and he'd quickly ushered Solana inside, assured no photographers were present. The underground garage and security at the Ritz protected her from the paparazzi stalking the reception. With her anonymity guaranteed, he could concentrate on his date.

His stunning date, in the perfect black dress that made his blood pump faster every time she crossed her legs. The tiny omission over its price didn't mar the sheer enjoyment of admiring how the silk hinted at hidden secrets beneath the full skirt. He hadn't lied exactly. The dress cost him three hundred dollars. Michelle, the owner of the boutique, insisted any dress was his at no cost. Aware of Solana's obsession with money, he'd taken a gamble and had the sales person add the tag with their commission as the price.

He'd tell her the whole truth one day. Maybe later, when he had her all to himself. If he got that privilege.

Usually by this point in the evening, he'd be dragging his escort into the cloakroom and burying himself in her for an interlude of relief from the tedious drone of people pulling on his coattails. Tonight, it wasn't necessary. At dinner, Solana berating the man whose name he'd never bothered to learn, seemed to scare off further leeches and Jack was able to enjoy his meal with her.

Solana bounced in her chair. "Let's dance."

Her enthusiasm made the notion appeal to him. On the dance floor, he could hold her. A woman warbled about the power of love as they joined the other guests, already swaying to the music.

The diamonds on her neck, twinkling in the low lights of the ballroom, caused a strange, almost pleasurable ache in the cavern of his chest. Many a night he stared at the picture of his parents on his bedside table, that necklace on his mother's neck, wondering if she'd be proud of him. James rarely spoke about his mother, her artistic endeavors of no value to the company or his life. What Jack knew he'd pieced together by reading newspaper articles, family documents and the few people in their inner circle still alive.

She'd met his father in Rome where she was spending a summer painting by day and partying by night. His father was backpacking through Europe after university and when it came time to leave Italy, she'd followed him. Then followed him home to America. James told the story like his mother knew the Blackhorne brothers would come into money someday and latched on.

Wolfe was kinder when he talked about Jack's parents. He spoke highly of her involvement in various charities, providing the company with write-offs and tax deductions. Yet, behind those fiscal benefits, Jack sensed a sadness in Wolfe's demeanour when either of his parents came up in conversation.

Unlike his head of security's underlying aversion to Solana. There was something there, something Wolfe was either hiding from him or worried about. He paid the man to protect him and his reputation, but Abraham's dirty deals or her ex-husbands criminal record were not worth the worry.

Not when the benefits far outweighed any entanglements.

Jack stared in awe at Solana. "Have I told you you're beautiful?"

She squeezed his hand, a glint in her eye. "Not nearly enough." Then her mouth twisted in a sharp turn.

His stomach seized. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Her lack of poker face would have amused him if she'd been lying under other circumstances. But the forced smile reminiscent of the night he'd met her marred her lovely features again. If she wasn't having a good time or if he was a terrible dancer, she should tell him.