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I eased through the crowd anonymously, picking up bits and pieces of the conversations around me, but too shy to try to strike up one myself. The song changed then, a slower romantic tune that had more couples heading off to the dance floor, and I sighed. If only…
As I pivoted away from the dancers to go in search of something to eat, my gaze fell on a familiar face a few feet away. With his hair slicked back, and in a tailored tuxedo that molded to the strong lines of his body, Salvatore was undeniably the sexiest man in the room, and he nearly took my breath away. His dark eyes were on mine, intense and hungry, and as he stalked toward me, I couldn’t move. I could only watch, utterly entranced, as the crowd parted for him, and he came to a stop before the man who’d captured his attention—me.
The delicious thrill that came from the element of surprise was never something that should be underestimated, and the round eyes looking up at me let me know that Jesse felt the same. When he’d first spotted me behind him, I had made sure to catalogue each and every emotion that flickered across his face, and what I’d seen there hadn’t left me disappointed.
Shock…
Joy…
And finally…desire.
And it was that final emotion that was currently swirling in his gaze as he let his eyes roam over my face, down my neck, and all the way down the length of my body. I gave him a second, or three, to look his fill before finally speaking.
“Good evening, Mr. Clark.” As my voice floated between us, Jesse raised his head and sucked in a breath. “Are you having a nice time so far tonight?”
Jesse blinked, then again, as though trying to ascertain if I was, in fact, in front of him, and then he let his breath out and nodded. “Uh, yeah, I am—I’m sorry, but how is it that you’re here?”
My lip curled in response, and when I took another step closer, Jesse bit down on his plump lower lip. The action made me achingly aware of why I was so fixated on the man opposite me. I indulged in my own once-over then, and made sure it was thorough and unapologetic.
Jesse’s blond hair was styled so the front was spiked and the rest was all neatly in place. His tuxedo fit him, but not perfectly. It appeared too large around the shoulders, and I’d noticed on my approach that the legs of the pants were a little too long. The tuxedo wasn’t his. Likely belonged to that friend of his, Brayden. But the shirt and bow tie fit him in a way that suggested they were his own.
Details. They were always important to take note of, because they were what would help you or hinder you in the end.
When I finally brought my attention back to his face, it pleased me to see the bright spots of color on his cheeks and the nervous way he was still chewing his lip. “You look very handsome tonight, Jesse.”
“I, uhh… Thank you.” He looked around, likely trying to see if anybody was paying attention to the exchange, but they weren’t. Because while he was shocked to see me there at the museum, no one else was. I’d been attending these galas for years. “I’m sorry, I know I must sound like an idiot right now, but I still don’t understand…how are you here?”
“I drove.” I reached for his empty glass, placed it on a waiter’s tray, and then handed Jesse another. “I think the better question would be: how did you get here? Did Pretty Baby give you any grief tonight?”
“No, she didn’t,” Jesse responded, and then narrowed his eyes. “And you still didn’t answer me.”
I chuckled at his put-out tone. “I didn’t, did I?”
“No, you didn’t—haven’t.”
“Won’t,” I said, then I leaned in. “I don’t answer to anyone, Jesse. But when I ask you something, you should definitely do the opposite.” As I straightened up, I saw him swallow, and smiled. “Do you understand?”
Jesse raised his glass and took a long gulp of his champagne, and once he was done, he looked flushed from both the alcohol and the lust I could see heating his eyes, and when I arched an eyebrow at him, he nodded.
Oh, that won’t do. Not at all. “Say it, Jesse.”
He licked along his lower lip and then gave me what I wanted: “I understand.”
“Good,” I said, and looked over my shoulder to where Dr. Berkovich, the museum’s director, stood with his wife and several members of the board, then I looked back to the one still watching me silently, waiting for whatever I planned to do next. “I figure congratulations must be in order. You got the internship, I see.”
