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“Well,” I start. “We had a deal. One last ride, then I’m going cold turkey.” The words sound hollow even to my own ears. “I’ll flush them from my system, even if they do make me feel…” My voice trails off, the truth too potent to voice aloud.
“Good?” Callie finishes for me, her eyebrow arching in silent challenge.
“Too good,” I admit. “Where’s that waiter with our drinks?”
Before she can reply, someone clears their throat behind us. “Hey there, how are we doing tonight?” His voice is smooth.
I turn, and there he is—Conrad York. His presence is like a bolt of electricity, shooting straight through the room and leaving the air charged.
My pulse quickens, and I feel my cheeks warm under his gaze. “Conrad,” I breathe out, the name a ghost on my lips. The tightness in my chest has nothing to do with the corseted dress I’m wearing.
Conrad’s surprise flickers to delight, a sly grin spreading across his face. “This is a pleasant surprise. I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away too long,” he says, his voice a low drawl that vibrates through me. “But I didn’t think I’d find you at trivia night.” He leans closer, the heat from his body mingling with mine. “How about we sneak away? There’s a closet in the back.”
My heart thuds against my ribs, loud and insistent. I open my mouth, but before words can spill out, Callie intervenes.
“Hi! I’m Callie.” She thrusts her hand toward Conrad.
“Conrad York.” He takes her hand in his, his grip firm but fleeting. “I’m sure Brielle has filled you in on who I am.”
I laugh, a short, nervous sound that betrays my inner turmoil. “He’s one of them,” I tell Callie, my voice barely above a whisper. Conrad’s eyes don’t leave mine.
“Ah, one of the infamous trio?” Callie’s tone is light, teasing.
“Trivia’s not really my scene,” Conrad admits, a playful edge to his voice. “But seeing you here”—his gaze sweeps over me, leaving a trail of fire in its wake—“is a welcome surprise.”
“Then, what are you doing here?”
“I’m running this event. Anything for charity, right?” He leans an elbow on our table, his auburn hair catching the dim light and casting a halo around his devilish grin. “And believe me, Brielle, you don’t need to be here for the money.” He pauses, letting the words hang between us like a challenge. “I can give you whatever you want. All you have to do is make a deal with me.”
I’ve already made one deal with the devil. How many does he want?
It’s dizzying, the way he speaks of charity and carnal bargains in the same breath. My cheeks flush a hot shade of pink, and I’m suddenly aware of how close he is—close enough for me to see the flecks of gold in his oceanic eyes, close enough for me to feel his heat. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. I’m caught in the web of his gaze, ensnared by the promise of something more than just words.
Before I can gather my scattered thoughts, Conrad’s voice drops to a husky whisper. “I hope you enjoy your evening,” he says loud enough for Callie to hear, but then he dips down, his lips barely grazing the shell of my ear. “But I’d like to see you before you leave.”
He pulls back, and there’s a smugness in his smile that tells me he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me, knows that I’ll stay behind to hear what he has to say.
He straightens, giving us a nod before turning away. His movements are all casual elegance as he mingles with the crowd, seemingly at ease.
Callie laughs, drawing my attention. “Oh, honey, I don’t think you’re going to be able to go cold turkey.”
10
CONRAD
I can’t stop looking at her.
Brielle is a vision, dressed in a plum dress that hugs her curves and makes me wish the two of us were alone. She’s breathtaking, completely unaware of the effect she has on me—or maybe she knows exactly what she’s doing. The thought sends a jolt through me, my mind spinning with images of her on her knees before me, those full lips parted slightly, eyes looking up at me with that same mix of innocence and mischief.
How would those perfectly pouty lips feel wrapped around my?—
“Conrad?” Tiffany’s voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp as a whipcrack, and I’m forcibly yanked back to reality. Her pencil skirt and no-nonsense blouse are the antithesis of Brielle’s sultry attire. “Everything’s winding down. I’d say it’s time.”
“Right.” I straighten my tie, clearing my throat to push away the fog of desire clouding my thoughts. I can feel the weight of responsibility settle back onto my shoulders, the awareness that this night is for a cause greater than my own rampant desires.
“Did you see the final number?” Tiffany hands me a slip of paper, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of pride at the figure scrawled there.
I step up to the microphone, my gaze inadvertently searching the crowd for one last glimpse of Brielle. I find her, our eyes locking for a moment too long.
