I’m about to give him a piece of my mind when he finally recognises me.
‘Nella? Jesus, you look different.’
‘Different, how?’ I ask coolly.
He seems startled by the question. His gaze flicks down to my legs, and I fight the urge to tug at the hem of my dress.
Who knew that all it would take for me to reduce Mark Marino to a speechless mess was a short skirt and balcony bra?
Men are so predictable.
‘Good to see you too, Mark,’ I say, my voice saccharine sweet.
It seems to bring him to his senses. ‘I’m sorry. I sounded like an arsehole. I didn’t expect to see you, that’s all. You look great.’
Before I can stop him, he’s closed the distance between us and is leaning in to kiss my cheek.
I put my hand up to stop his body from getting too close. It rests hot and awkward on his chest as he brushes his lips against my cheek, then he hovers a fraction of a second before he kisses my other cheek. His hand is splayed across the small of my back. I feel these points of contact like static electricity, an unwanted crackle generated deep under my skin.
My reaction shocks me, and I take a step back, trying to slow my breathing. He scratches the back of his neck and the short sleeve of his T-shirt lifts, revealing a well-defined tricep.
His eyes have always been mesmerising. The closer you get the better they look. Even in the relative dark of the room, they’reas clear as amber glass. The devil has angel’s eyes, as my gran always says.
I look away before it gets weird.
Someone puts on Kylie, and a tide of people surge into the middle of the room to dance. Mark instinctively puts his hand on my arm, and we take a step back to the bookcase.
‘You’re tapping your foot,’ I tell him.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You want to dance. Admit it.’
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t dance.’
‘Your mum would disagree.’
‘I don’tliketo dance.’
‘So what are you doing at a party, then?’
‘I’m starting to wonder the same thing.’
I move closer to the middle of the room to join the other dancers.
‘Your loss,’ I say as nonchalantly as I can.
I sway my hips in time to the music, and after a few moments I look over my shoulder. Mark’s taking a sip of beer, watching me. He puts the bottle down on a shelf, and then he’s at my side.
I can’t help grinning.
He leans into my ear. ‘Tell Yan I said hello.’
I frown. ‘You haven’t seen him and you’re already leaving?’
‘I came here to kill time before my six a.m. flight back to Larnaca. I’m gonna wait in the airport.’
‘Oh, okay,’ I mumble.
