“A friend in need,” he answers prosaically.
“Is a pain in the ass indeed!”
He laughs, throwing back his head to expose the strong line of his throat and the masculine rise of his Adam’s apple. A ripple ofyes please!washes through me.
“What?”
I give my head a tiny shake in the face of his curious expression. “Huh?”
“You’re looking at me strangely.”
Try thirstily, friend.Is it him? Is it the champagne? Is it because I don’t want yesterday’s wax to go to waste? I am currently as smooth as a dolphin from the brows down, and it wasnota joyous experience.
“I was just thinking.” Lusting. Wondering if you’re my gift from the universe.I deserve one, don’t I?“Oh, ow!” I step on a stone—stupid me, I’d been so careful all this way not to—then stumble over the hem of my dress. I don’t fall though, as Oliver reaches out to grasp my arm.
“You should’ve eaten more.” Concern pinches his brows as he pulls me against him, brushing my hair from my face.
“It was a stone,” I protest laughingly, taking the opportunity to touch him up. I mean, straighten his lapels. “If you add a steak dinner to all that champagne, I might get the wrong idea,friend.”
“And what idea would that be?”
“That I might need to sell a kidney to pay you back.”
He chuckles as the late-setting summer sun crowns his dark head in a halo of bronze. Something shifts inside me, something with heat and substance, the suddenness of it robbing me of my breath. If men can be beautiful, Oliver Deubel is the epitome of the ideal. Tall, dark, and more than handsome, he wears a suit like it’s a lethal weapon, and I amsoattracted to him.
Mitchell is lower than a rat for what he’s done, but this isn’t one bit about him. When I look at Oliver, I get this awful yet heavenly twist deep inside. I can almost taste his kisses—anticipate the experience. But if I make a move, would that look like I’m pursuing pity sex? I’d rather Oliver rail me good and hard as a way of getting back at Mitchell. On some level, wouldn’t I be doing the same?
“Eve?”
I find myself blinking heavily. “Sorry, I was miles away.”
“Anywhere nice?” His words end in a provocative curl. “Judging by your expression ...”
“This is just my thinking face.”It’s good you can’t see into my head, because I was imagining how incredible you’d look naked.“Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne.”
“Or you should’ve eaten more,” he says again.
“Like I said, I stood on a stone and tripped over my stupid dress.”
“It isn’t stupid. I’m sure I’m not the first person today to say you look very beautiful.”
My insides suddenly feel like they’re filled with Pop Rocks. I dip my head to hide my delight. Wait—does he think I was fishing for compliments? I wasn’t, but I’m very happy to land them.
“Give a girl a fancy dress.” Lace whispers as I swish the skirt, and his shiny oxfords appear in my line of vision.
“Accept the compliment in the vein it was given.” His voice is soft as his finger finds my chin.
“I never learned how,” I whisper. Compliments make me feel uncomfortable.
“We’ll practice. You’re perfect. Right here in this moment. It’s easy, see?”
Perfect is an ideal I’ve never sought, but my body enjoys its resonance as he cups the side of my neck.
“Now thank me. Say it like you mean it.”
If his compliments resonate, his demands detonate, heat pulsing through me in their wake.
“Thank you,” I whisper, coy suddenly.
