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The swan looks my way.
I hold my breath.
Her eyes are like molten gold, sparkling even in the dim light of the club.
In the background, an upbeat bass throbs.
And so do I.
She starts to smile, to thank me, but Kelsey grabs her attention before I can reciprocate. My own damn fault.
“You’re such a good host,” Mason teases.
I pat my son’s friend on the shoulder. “Mason, you know I love you, but get the fuck out of here, would you?”
He grins. “Whatever you say.” The younger man gets to his feet and trips off into the hoopla of the floor.
I watch the swan wait for her drink. And I wait for her to look at me.
Her head dips down, looking at her hands.
I take stock of every little detail about her. The severe lines of her cheekbones and jaw, her ear lobe that is decorated with a dangling pearl and a golden stud, plus a hoop at the very top of her ear.
I can’t place her. And I can place pretty much everyone despite their masks.
However, this is one of the only events of the year where our members can bring as many guests as they like. She could be a friend of a friend of a friend. Someone I might never see again.
Which means it’s all the more important I close the gap between us.
“A swan, hm?”
Wow. Smooth, Edwin.
The woman lifts her face toward mine. She’s young. “Yes. And you are?”
I lift my chin. “Guess.”
Kelsey returns with the woman’s drink. Another of the evening’s signature cocktails.
Farley came up with that one.
I thought it was a little too cheeky, but I’ve seen the Lion’s Roars flowing allnight.
The swan takes a sip, then looks at me once more. “Hmm…”
“You need a hint?”
“No, no.” Another sip. She tilts herself back, leaning on the bar, showing off the deep well of her clavicle.
My god, she’s stunning. She’s probably a model. I think I’ve seen her before on the cover of…something. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.
“Hmmm…” The way her lips fold to hum makes my insides vibrate.
Shit, this isn’t good.
“Rooster?” she ventures.
I jut my chin forward, eyes widening. “Rooster?!”
