Chapter 11-Aquamarine

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The only thing he cared about was seeing Hope.

He got his wish the moment he turned. She stood at the top of the steps, looking incredibly beautiful, the dim lights casting a glow upon her face and gown–an angel in blue. She wore the dress.

The vision of her nearly took his breath away.

Pride filled him.

She looked majestic.  The color of the dress on her skin had her glowing.

Although the ballroom was packed, she and Sammy parted the crowd easily. She'd be swarmed by men listening to the quiet whispers. He could not blame them though, she was exquisite. Any man would die to have her on his arm.

He made a mental note to keep her close to his side once she and Sammy got closer.

His heartbeat began to quicken as she lifted her skirts to carefully descend the steps with Sammy at her side assisting her.

He inhaled deeply, absentmindedly his attention returned to the crowd of guests milling around him.

Zayn finally managed to extricate himself from the desperate clutches of his admirers. There had been a time when he'd thrived on his looks to attract women, a time he loved the endless parade of them, not anymore. Making his way across the floor, he steered clear of the girls attempting to approach him. The only thing he cared about was Hope.

He ignored the crowd. He ignored the group of whispering women. A low murmur began to rise as he walked past them all, the confusion and chatter growing even louder as he closed in on his target.

"Hope." He whispered.

He suddenly had to touch her with a desperation that bordered on insanity. She didn't move as he stepped closer to her and stopped only a foot away from her that the tips of his shoes brushed against the hem of her gown.

Hope stood rigidly, very nearly losing her grip on her composure, the painful pinching of her toes forgotten. She swallowed, she couldn't look away, couldn't breathe, couldn't even scream if she wanted to.

His eyes flashed with a hint of amusement.

Hope felt the eyes of every woman there on her and heard a hundred whispered conversations.

Zayn grasped her hand firmly with his own warm, strong fingers and raised her knuckles, the merest brush of his lips against Hope's hand. She felt the effect of the kiss throughout her body, going hot all over and her skin flush with color which he would be able to notice. Her reaction embarrassed and annoyed her, fighting the urge to jerk away from the contact.

"You look exquisite as always."

Hope shivered at the pleasure radiating from his voice.

"It's a creation, thank you for providing the dress. . .and shoes." She replied, with a warm blush coating her cheeks.

"It was my pleasure entirely." He murmured.

Her lashes fluttered upward at the gentleness he conveyed through his words, and as their eyes met, he offered her the warmth of the smile she'd alway loved. The smile she knew.

A certain stillness enveloped them as they stood, knowing every pair of eyes watching them.

"Are you enjoying the evening?" He asks, casually, scanning the crowds above her head. His eyes caught on to something past her. He waved with a smile, but Hope didn't bother to turn and see who it was he was greeting from afar.

He met her eyes once more.

"I am. Everything looks beautiful." She commented, gesturing in one sweep to the flowers decorating tables, the ice sculptures on the buffet tables and the playing tables lined up along the back of the ballroom. "I've never been a part of something like this. I feel like I've stepped into a movie."

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