She also looks like she’d ironically adhered to tonight’s dress code.
All she’s missing is an actual black tie. The one I’d like to tie her wrists with.
“Say something.” Her tone has lost its earlier bite as she chews the corner of her lip. And not for effect, judging by the way her forefingers anxiously circle her thumbs, her hands not quite concealed by her thighs.
How on earth can she not know she looks like fucking Aphrodite?
I shake my head as I rein in my fanciful thoughts, then slide my hand into my pockets again. “I think I’m just going to give you these,” I say, pulling out my keys.
“Because you admit you’re going to lose.” Her smile is the epitome of pleasure.
But then her eyes darken as I step closer, ignoring her outstretched hand. I slide the key to my Aston Martin into the top pocket, my knuckles ghosting over the rise of her breast as I pull away. “Darling, I think I already have.”
Lost my mind. Lost my purpose. And if I’m not careful, I might just lose myself.
5
Isla
“Shall we?”
Niko, the annoyingly handsome stranger, offers me his elbow at the top of the stairs. It doesn’t feel right somehow—not the man. I can attest the man feels more than fine. I bet he kisses like a man with a vocation. I suppose I mean his name doesn’t feel right. I’m not suggesting he’s given me a fake name. It’s just Niko makes me think of Greek islands and Mediterranean skies, while the man standing next to me is less blue skies and more iceberg. I don’t mean cold, more like he has hidden depths, that he could be dangerous.
I’m being ridiculous.
I give myself a little shake as I accept his courtly escort, sliding my arm through his.
Downstairs, the party is in full swing. Music blares from the ballroom, and though I should probably find Tamsin and my birthday crew, I find I don’t want to. It’s not just because I’m drawn to him. Our meeting feels almost pivotal. I know that sounds silly, and maybe it’s the whole “turning a quarter of a century” thing, but I have the strange sensation of things never being the same.
“So what’s next?” Butterflies flutter through my tummy as I turn to face Niko at the base of the grand staircase.
“I promised you a drink,” he replies, plucking a champagne glass from a passing tray.
“Nothing for you?” I press the glass to my lips, trying hard not to stare at him over it. I’m so nervous that I spill a little, catching it between my finger and my bottom lip. When I glance up, his eyes are midnight dark, and an angry-looking crease has formed between his brows. “What is it? Oh, you don’t drink?” I almost apologize because his expression is so fierce.
“I prefer a clear head.”
“How sensible of you.”
“That sounded like an insult.” His expression morphs into mild amusement.
“And you’re smiling?” I say, trying to dampen my own grin.
“Perhaps I’m perverse.”
“No doubt about it.” My grin becomes a chuckle. Bickering with him is such fun.
“I think you might be right because this is where I leave you.”
Blinking, I fix that smile on my face. He can’t mean it, can he? Unless he’s worried he might actually lose his car. Anyway, I’d given him back his car keys because keeping them just seemed ridiculous. At least as ridiculous as this conversation. “How am I meant to kiss you if you’re not here? I mean, how am I meant not to kiss you if you’re not around?”
“Easily, I would imagine.”
“That seems unfair on you.”
“Or like removing temptation?”
I almost roll my eyes. “What I meant to say was, don’t go too far.” Reaching out, I poke him lightly in the shoulder. “I can’t have you leaving with the keys to my new car.”
Catching my retreating hand, he curls my fingers over his. I assume he’s about to press a courtly kiss to my hand when he flicks my forefinger up and presses his teeth over the tip. I inhale a tiny gasp, my insides beginning to pop and fizz like a dozen tiny bottles of corked champagne.
“I’m looking forward to collecting my prize far too much to let you wander off,” his low voice rumbles. “Be a good girl, and don’t kiss anyone else.” He turns, and the crowd swallows him.
“You know, I’m beginning to think this isn’t your brother’s party,” Tamsin says, pitching her voice louder. We’re in the room adjacent to the ballroom, and while the music isn’t deafening, it’s still pretty annoying. “Or even his place, come to think of it.”
“What?” My attention swings her way. “Why else would we be here?”
She gives a theatrical roll of her eyes, but I’m already looking away. From our position near the fireplace, I have a perfect view of the room and a partial view of the room beyond. You’d imagine a man in a stark white shirt would be easy to spot in a sea of dinner jackets, even without him being a head taller than most of the men here. But I’ve yet to set eyes on Niko. How am I supposed to make a point of not kissing him if he’s not here? Even if kissing him is pretty much all I can think about.