Page 102 of Knox's Boy

"He’s obsessed with you," she stated, her voice low. "He’s currently listening to that guy talk about renewable energy, but his leg is pressed against yours, and he’s refilled your water glass twice without looking."

I looked down. My water glass was indeed full. Knox’s thigh was a solid wall of heat against mine under the table.

"He takes care of me," I said, a flush rising on my cheeks.

Luna leaned closer, her expression turning serious. "I’ve never seen you this happy, Flo. You look... settled. Like you’re not waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"I'm not," I realized. "I think the shoes are staying on."

"Good," she said, squeezing my hand under the table. "Though I'm still watching him. Eternal vigilance."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

I looked up at Knox then. He was laughing at something David said, his head thrown back, his throat exposed. He looked powerful and untouchable, but I knew what he looked like when he was sleepy and soft, I knew the sound he made when he came, I knew the way he worried about his mother.

He turned, feeling my gaze. The laughter softened in his eyes. He reached under the table, his hand finding my knee, giving it a firm, possessive squeeze.

"You okay?" he mouthed.

I nodded, feeling a swell of pride so big it almost hurt. This was my life. This powerful, incredible man was mine, and I was his.

"I'm perfect," I mouthed back.

After dinner, I was laughing at a joke Sophia had made about her husband’s golf game when I felt Knox’s hand slide into mine. His grip was firm.

"Come with me," he whispered near my ear.

I didn't ask where. I stood up, excusing myself from the table, and let him lead me away. He navigated us through the crush of bodies, away from the golden light of the ballroom, down a quiet corridor lined with abstract art, until we reached a heavy glass door.

He pushed it open, and the cold winter air hit us.

We stepped onto a private balcony that overlooked the entire city. The wind was biting, but I barely felt it. Knox pulled me into the corner, sheltered from the wind by the stone architecture of the building.

The music from inside drifted out to us, muffled and dreamlike, a slow, swaying jazz melody.Knox turned to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his body. He was a furnace in the cold.

"I wanted you to myself," he murmured. "Just for a minute. Before the madness of the countdown."

I rested my hands on his chest. "Selfish Daddy," I teased softly.

"Always," he agreed, smirking.

He began to sway, moving us in a slow, barely-there dance. My feet followed his instinctively. We moved in a tiny circle in the dark.

"This past year," Knox said, his voice rumbling through his chest and into my palms. "You’ve brought light into my life I didn't know was missing. Before you... everything was gray.”

I looked up at him. The ambient light from the city cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the silver in his hair.

"And you saved me, literally," I said. "I was so scared, all the time. I never knew what home felt like until you."

The wind ruffled his hair. He tightened his hold on me, as if he could physically shield me from my past memories.

"You're my home," he said, his voice rough. He lifted my hand, pressing a kiss to the center of my palm, then to my wrist, right over my pulse.

"Ten!" The crowd inside roared, the sound muffled but audible through the glass.

"Nine!"

Knox lifted my chin gently, his thumb tracing my lower lip.