I let a cocky smile slide across my face. Then I'm dropping the dress that’s still bunched in my hand and spinning in a circle to show off the full effect.
If I was going to do this, I was going to do this right. And while I could have chosen a pantsuit to play with Aiden’s emotions, I decided to go all out instead.
The dress I chose is a full-length, gold, silk dress with a slit up the right leg. It's somewhat conservative—with the slit being at an appropriate height and the top only showing off a hint of décolletage—but it fits me so well that every curve is accentuated by the light color and skintight fit. It's conservative but also… not.
Combined with my full sleeve on display and my eyes painted with smokey makeup, I'm basically a walking contradiction in this environment.
"God, you're so fucking hot," I hear Aiden breathe when I complete my twirl. His hands are no longer in his pockets, but squeezing into fists at his side. He looks like he just wants to grab me and throw me over his shoulder.
I take a small step closer to him, until we're practically chest to chest and I can tease in a whisper, "And I'm not wearing any underwear, as requested." I pull back enough to catch the shocked—and pained—look on his face.
"You're going to be the death of me, woman," he groans, dragging his hand down his face. Then he's holding his arm out for me to weave mine through and saying, "Let's get this over with so I can get you home and into my bed as quickly as humanly possible."
I tuck my arm through his with a smile. "Yes, sir," I purr.
To be met with another groan and an agitated tug as he steps forward.
We mingle for the first twenty minutes. Aiden grabs two flutes of champagne for us when we walk in, and we both quietly sip on them as we walk around to see the exhibits. I have a feeling Aiden is trying to give me the real feel of this event before we do anything else.
"So this is what your world looks like," I comment, taking another sip of my champagne as my eyes travel around the now-overfull room. "It's not that bad. How many people should you be talking to tonight?"
He shrugs before throwing back the last of his drink. “There’s no right or wrong answer. I get out of it what I put into it, but since my internship offered me a paid position at the end of my semester, this is just bonus networking.”
My gaze jerks to him in surprise. “They offered you the job? You didn’t tell me that!”
He shrugs again, this time looking slightly bashful as his cheeks pinken. “Didn’t know if you were interested in that kind of information.”
And I think I’m offended by that, a fact I reinforce when I give him a decidedly unladylike shove.
It only makes him grin.
“I want to tell you congratulations, but now I also kind of want to give you the cold shoulder,” I grumble.
And yet, a moment later…
“Congratulations, Aiden.” The soft-spoken words flow unbidden and honest between us.
“Thanks, Dani,” he responds, equally quiet, but pleased smile firmly in place. A matching one creeps onto my face, as well.
His gaze moves over me for the thirteenth time tonight as he finally says, "I was going to introduce you to some people, but now I think I want to keep you all to myself."
I can't stop myself from grinning at his possessive side, or from taking pity on him and patting his chest in understanding.
"Let's compromise," I suggest. "Why don't you tell me about the people you know in this room instead."
And when his eyes begin to twinkle with mischief, I'm immediately reminded thatthisversion of Aiden was the reason I came tonight.
"I've got a better idea," he says in that quiet, deep voice of his. "Why don't we make up our own theories about the people in this room?"
"Oh," I breathe. "I like that idea way more." My gaze moves around the room, looking for the best targets. I gesture in front of us and ask, "Would you like to do the honors? Since it was your idea."
Taking a deep breath, he looks around the room, his furrowed brow and over exaggerated look of concentration making me have to swallow a laugh.
"Okay, I'm going to have to pick someone I don't know so I'm not going into this game with an unfair advantage. A lot of them are classmates and professors.” He shoots me a playful wink. "Some of these people's real lives are a Spanish soap opera you wouldn't believe."
At that, I really do let out a laugh.
He looks delighted, as he always does, at the sound. It even takes him a moment to turn back to the crowd, and another few seconds to decide on his target.