Chapter 741 Elliot's Heart Softened the Moment She Shed a Tear 2
In the elevator, Elliot kept his eyes fixed on the ascending red numbers, his voice carefully neutral. "Do you attend these kinds of business dinners often? Pouring drinks for men, serving them food, wiping down their pants? Doesn't Blake have a problem with this?"
From what he knew, Blake had his own profitable ventures beyond acting.
Wasn't Molly supposed to be Blake's girlfriend? How could he stand watching her debase herself like this for money?
Elliot's contempt for Molly was real, but so was their shared past. So was his inability to forget her.
First love had a way of leaving permanent scars.
Thirty seconds later, the elevator opened onto the top floor of an international hotel chain. Elliot swiped his keycard and held the penthouse door open, watching Molly carefully. "Come in. Don't worry—I'm not going to try anything."
What exactly wasn't he going to try?
Maybe he just couldn't stand watching her endure the smoke-filled room below, playing servant to those men and their crude jokes. Maybe some part of him still ached for her, despite everything.
The suite was sprawling and luxuriously appointed.
Molly stepped inside and immediately slipped off her heels, revealing the angry red marks where the straps had bitten into her pale skin. The relief was instant.
Elliot watched her in silence. Then, without warning, his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against him. His mouth crashed down on hers with devastating intensity, claiming her lips with a hunger that had been building for months. He didn't deepen the kiss, but the pressure was relentless, possessive.
Molly melted against him like silk in flame, offering no resistance.
Perhaps because she had none left to give.
Every stolen moment with him felt like borrowed time from a life she'd never have.
When he finally pulled away, Elliot studied her flushed face—pale from shock but burning from oxygen deprivation.
Her voice trembled as she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
Elliot didn't answer. His dark eyes remained fixed on hers. "Why are you asking? You have Blake, don't you? Besides, nothing's going to happen. I told you I wouldn't touch you."
Yet he'd just kissed her senseless.
Whether from impulse or unresolved fury, she couldn't tell.
Molly's chest rose and fell rapidly.
After a long moment, Elliot released her completely. His tone turned businesslike. "Clio ordered room service. Someone will bring dinner up soon—just answer the door. I'm going to shower."
"Okay," Molly whispered.
Elliot gave her one last penetrating look before disappearing into the master bedroom. Soon she heard the metallic clink of his belt hitting the floor, followed by the rush of water.
Five minutes later, a server wheeled in an elaborate dinner cart loaded with gourmet dishes, artfully arranged fresh fruit, and a bottle of vintage wine.
Molly tipped the server and carefully transferred everything to the suite's dining area. By the time she finished, Elliot emerged wearing nothing but a hotel bathrobe, his dark hair still damp and tousled.
Molly caught one glimpse and quickly averted her eyes.
The thin terry cloth did absolutely nothing to contain his raw masculine energy. Elliot seemed oblivious to the effect, casually toweling his hair before joining her at the table. Neither of them had eaten much during the business dinner, too focused on the performance. Now Elliot ate with genuine appetite, savoring both the food and wine.
Molly, by contrast, picked at her meal with nervous precision, eyes downcast.
Watching her delicate movements, Elliot was transported back to their clandestine hotel meetings six months ago.
Knowing she would refuse him, knowing she belonged to Blake, he still heard himself ask, "Do you want to make love?"
Molly's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock and something that looked dangerously like longing.
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