She dropped her head forward and opened her eyes.
All the sound was sucked from the room, leaving behind nothing. Well, not nothing, there was a faint, tinny, continuous beep, almost like a patient had flatlined.
Who was the man standing in front of her?
He did not belong. He did not make sense in this place.
Buzzers buzzed and music dinged. People called out to one another. Cigarette smoke curled. But he didn’t move a muscle. Everything but him was blurry. Suddenly secondary.
Yes, he was attractive. In a way that must scare some women. If a female wanted this man, they would have to hold on for dear life and she’d probably still get left in the dust. No doubt they would try to catch up with him, begging for the same treatment again.
He was dark-haired, whiskey-eyed, tall and unshaven.
Strong.
Observant.
He was watching Roksana now with a slight crease between his black eyebrows, as if trying to place her. Please. Don’t ask me if we’ve met before. That would be such a predictable opening line and weirdly, she wanted his personality to match the rest of him.
Why?
She certainly didn’t want a scary man like this one.
Easy, carefree and far as possible from the dark she’d grown up in. That’s what she gravitated toward, much to the disgust of her mother, the Queen of Shadows.
Annoyed at the reminder of the familial tension back in Russia, Roksana crossed her legs with a sniff, noting the muscle that jumped in his cheek. “Well? Make it good. I only have five minutes before I wreak the havoc.”
The corner of his mouth tugged and for some reason, that tiny reaction felt like a monumental victory. “You plan on wreaking havoc with one shoe, Cinderella?”
He held up one of her gold metallic heels and she frowned.
“Where did I drop it?”
“Near the poker tables where I was sitting.” Turning the shoe over in his hand, the man flicked a glance at the nickel slot, then fixed his hard gaze back on her. “You playing slots? I’d have pegged you as more of a roulette girl.”
She scoffed. “I play nothing. I will not give these weasels my money.”
“Smart.”
“Da.” She pursed her lips. “Also I have very little money already.”
Another one of those intoxicating lip tugs. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d probably find a way to double it.” He seemed to snap himself out of a trance, laughing without humor under his breath. “You’ve traveled a long way to forgo Vegas’s main attraction. If you’re not here for the gambling, why did you come?”
“My best friend’s bachelorette party.”
He looked around and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, where are they?
“I’m meeting them again shortly.” Sitting at a much lower height while he stood with powerful legs braced apart, his impressive height and ruthless build made her feel feminine, aware of her body as a lure in a way she never had been. While she’d spent the last few years making up for the strictness of her upbringing, the opposite sex still remained on the backburner. None of the boys at university interested her. Nor could a single one of them could ever hope to make her belly impatient and excited all at once, like this man did just by being near. And she had the most pressing urge to see inside of him.
Or push him off balance and see how he handled it.
“What do you expect from a woman?”
It was an odd question to ask a stranger under any circumstances, but especially in the middle of a loud casino. Yet he answered without hesitating, as if he’d anticipated harder than normal questions from her. “I never expect a single thing from anyone, man or woman.”
Interesting. “What do you expect from yourself?”
“Consistency.”
She liked that answer. A lot. But somehow it hadn’t surprised her. Even more than his honest answer, though, she enjoyed how fast he responded. It seemed this was a man who knew himself well and lived with conviction.
“What about you?” he asked. “What do you expect from a man?”
“I don’t know.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “Whatcha got?”
His gaze meandered down her legs, heating, followed by a tic of the vein in his temple. “Name it, baby.”
Damn. If she continued to flash from hot to cold to hot again, she was going to catch pneumonia. Her body was as confused as her mind over her reaction to this man, heat seeming to permeate new spaces inside of her she hadn’t known existed. When she responded, her voice emerged as little more than a breathy whisper. “It’s a good thing I expect sound judgment from myself or I might accept that blatant invitation.”
Skepticism warred with lust on his face. “Is sound judgment really what you expect from yourself?”
“Nyet.” His astuteness made her almost giddy. “I expect adventure.”
Adventure.
At the inadvertent reminder of what she was supposed to be doing, Roksana whipped the phone out of her pocket and winced. “Uh-oh. Only three minutes until havoc time.” She took the shoe he offered, using his arm without asking to stabilize herself while sliding the shoe onto her foot, followed by the other one. “I came in here to cool off and now I’m going to be late.”