Except I did.Shut up, Tori, I told myself.Men like mystery. Be mysterious.
“I didn’t know about the root of the word,” Stefan said slowly. “But I do know some of its modern synonyms. Flexible,” he spun me under his arm gracefully. “Pliant.” He pulled me back into his arms. “Responsive.”
He said the last in a husky whisper.
Oh.
I had always considered language to hold a sensuality of its own. But I had never imagined the power it could have coming from the mouth of a man like Stefan.
Responsive.
I felt responsive in his arms. Very responsive.
His hand was like a brand on my back, radiating heat down my body. For the first time since my father had announced that I would be marrying this man, I allowed myself to imagine what that would be like. What it would entail, to be man and wife in all regards.
Another shiver spread through me.
No doubt a man like Stefan, who handled himself with confidence and control on the dance floor, would be just as skilled in the bedroom. The hot, taut pull between my legs tightened even further. Unable to help myself, I moved a little closer, my eyes darting up to meet his. He was staring at me. Intensely.
“Why don’t we get some air?” he asked, his voice low.
“Yes,” I agreed breathlessly. “It’s much too warm in here.”
I let him lead me out onto the balcony. It was quiet out there except for the muffled sounds of the party, shut away behind closed doors. We were alone.
Without his arms around me, the chill air hit me full force, and I rubbed my arms to warm myself. Suddenly, a jacket—Stefan’s jacket—was draped over my shoulders, enveloping me in his residual body heat and his rich, masculine scent.
As the jacket’s silky lining slid against my bare skin, I felt that familiar twist in my lower belly. It made no sense. I barely knew this man, but there was no denying that he did something to me.
How much of this was an act, though? If we were just two people meeting at a party, would he have looked at me twice?
God, but his jacket smelled good. Like expensive, woodsy cologne and a hint of sweet cigar smoke. I wanted to take a deep breath, but I had to pull myself together. Be direct.
“So what are your thoughts on the arrangement our fathers have orchestrated?” I asked.
“The deal was no surprise to me. I’m sure for someone your age it seems strange.”
“Strange is an understatement,” I responded. “You’re the last thing I expected as a birthday present.”
He gave me a crooked half smile.
“Not that I’m disappointed,” I rushed on, feeling my cheeks flush. “I mean, you’re actually a very nice birthday present.” I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Wow. I amnottrying to say that you are an object—though I mean, you are kind of a gift because you’re so nice to look at, but it’s more appreciation than objectification and this whole thing is just kind of weird on the whole because who does arranged marriages anymore, you know?”
I was out of breath. He quirked an eyebrow.
“You think I’m good looking?” he asked, with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how handsome they were.
I nodded. This time I was pretty sure I was bright red. Not a flattering blush at all.
“I’m surprised you don’t have a boyfriend already,” he said. “Your father told me you don’t even date.”
I held my tongue, not wanting to get on the subject of my lack of experience when it came to men. “I’ve been trying to focus on my education,” I said, which was at least half of the truth. “And honestly, I’ve discovered that most guys don’t appreciate my nonstop word vomit.”
Way to stop while you’re ahead, I chided myself.
But Stefan only laughed. “You’re funny.”
He moved closer, adjusting the lapels of his jacket around my neck. My breath caught in my throat.
