I have to ignore this bizarre attraction.I wouldn’t act on it even if I wanted to.
Find the locket. Kill Max. Get back.
His knowing eyes, brimming with amusement and heat, meet mine. “Where’d you hide that dress? Your backpack?”
I slink up beside him, close enough to whisper. “I could ask you the same.” I gesture toward his suit jacket.
“I like to be ready for anything.” He smiles like he’s joking, but his words hold weight.
“Cute.” I brush past him, wandering toward the auction tables. “Did you learn that in the Boy Scouts?”
Max’s glare practically burns through me as I drift through the crowd, faux-inspecting the items. Diamond necklaces, sapphire earrings, and emerald rings all glitter under the lights. Art pieces. A weekend getaway package to an all-inclusive resort. A signed guitar from some musician I’ve never heard of.
Nothing that actually interests me.
I peek as Max does a methodical circuit along the far side of the room.
He completes the path with that same economical grace I observed in the parking garage. Every step conveys purpose.
When he reaches me, he performs another slow appraisal that prickles my skin. “If this were a date, I’d say you look stunning.”
The way he states the simple words in his low, deep voice turns them into something else. I can’t decide if he means that as a compliment or an insult, though my stomach flutters just the same.
“If this were a date, I’d pretend to care about your cheek.” I raise my hand, hovering it just over the mark darkening his cheekbone.
“That bruise is getting bigger.” False sympathy colors my voice. “That’s gonna be sore.”
He leans in until the heat from his cheek warms my fingers. “It’s not the only thing getting bigger.” He tilts his head and skates his lips over my palm. “Keep acting so concerned, and it’ll only grow larger.”
My mouth falls open. Is he…flirting? I’ve spent plenty of time among men while training with Dimitri, but this is entirely new territory.
Desire ignites in his eyes, and I hate the answering flicker of pleasure at the base of my spine.
Yep, the bastard’s definitely flirting. The urge to hurt him dials up to an eleven.
His gaze drops to my mouth. “How’d you find me?”
I press my lips together. He won’t live long enough to share the information, so telling him the truth won’t do any harm. “You have a license plate, don’t you?”
His nod knocks hair into his eyes. “So you’re techy.”
“That’s Dimitri.” The moment the name leaves my mouth, I know I’ve screwed up. My stomach churns with instant regret.
“I see.” His expression doesn’t change. “Who the fuck is Dimitri?”
“No one important.”
As the silence stretches, his eyes never stray from mine.
I nearly flinch when Max reaches out and grabs two champagne flutes from a passing waiter. Arching an eyebrow, he offers me one.
I stare at the champagne before lifting my eyes to his face.
As he watches my internal debate, the mockery in his expression irks me, so I accept the beverage.
Max raises his flute. “Shall we toast to parking garages?”
I lift the glass to my mouth. The bubbles touch my lips, and I swallow without drinking. He could’ve easily palmed in a quick-dissolving drug.
