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He frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She leaned into him a little more, gave him a quick hug. Then excused herself to use the ladies’ room.
As conversations ebbed and flowed around her, Isa made her way to the wide-open doors at the end of the room. They let out onto the terrace that overlooked the ocean and as she got closer she could feel the sea breeze sweeping through the room. It was a little chilly, a little salty and exactly what she needed to help her get her head back on straight. And to forget about Marc and the painful past she had no hope of changing.
Slipping around the last group of people, she walked straight out to the darkest part of the terrace. Bracing her hands on the iron fence that closed it in, she closed her eyes and let herself breathe. In, out. In, out. In, out. Already, she felt calmer. More in control. She wondered how long she could stay out here before Gideon came looking for her.
* * *
She was gorgeous. Dressed in a simple purple sheath that stood out like a beacon amid the sea of black cocktail dresses, she was as sexy, as sensual, as he’d remembered. More so even, maturity lending a lushness to her face and figure that hadn’t been there before.
It was a lushness that clown Gideon had noticed. One he’d taken every chance to brush against or touch or hold. Standing there, doing nothing, while that bastard had pawed Isa had been one of the hardest things Marc had ever done. Especially when he’d wanted nothing more than to smash his fist into the jerk’s face.
Only the fact that Isa seemed to like Gideon’s touch had stopped him, even as it had cranked his anger into a lethal place. One where the six years between now and when she’d been his had melted into nothing, like snow on the first warm spring day.
He watched her weave her way through the bodies, watched as she slipped out onto the terrace, finding a dark corner with only a little light to stand in.
Watched as she took a deep, shuddering breath. Then another and another.
Her beautiful breasts trembled against the deep V of her neckline and Marc’s fingers itched—ached—with the need to touch her there. To hold the warm, firm weight of her in the palms of his hands while he kissed, licked, sucked her nipples until she orgasmed.
It had been one of his favorite things to do when she’d been his.
As he stood there, watching her, an image came to him. One of Gideon on his knees in front of her, pleasuring her the way Marc used to. Rage exploded within him, turned his voice harsh and tinted his vision with red. Or maybe that was green.
Within seconds he was next to her. “Who is this Gideon guy to you?” The question came out before he even knew he was going to ask it.
Isa’s eyes flew open and she whirled to face him, one shaky hand pressed to her chest.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“I followed you.” He stepped forward, ran his fingers down the sweet softness of her cheek.
“Why?”
He ignored her question, focused instead on the sudden increase in her breathing. She was either nervous or aroused. Or maybe both. He wanted to revel in her reaction, probably would have, if he hadn’t been struck by the sudden realization that her response might be for Gideon instead of him.
“Who is that guy to you?” he asked again.
“Gideon?”
He didn’t like the way she said the guy’s name, all soft and familiar. It pushed at him, made him snarly. And more determined than ever to have her in his bed again. “Yeah.”
“He’s my escort. And—and my friend.”
Her voice broke as he slid his hand from her cheek to her jaw to the pulse that fluttered wildly at the base of her neck. “Is that all?”
She wet her lips with her tongue and he nearly groaned. It took every ounce of control he had not to lean forward and brush his own tongue against hers.
“Is what all?” She was breathless now, her chest rising and falling unevenly.
The knowledge that she wanted him, too, sent a shot of lust straight to his groin. He stepped closer, brushed her body with his even as he circled her neck with his thumb and fingers. It wasn’t a threat or an attempt to intimidate. No, it was simply a gesture of the possessiveness ripping through him like a freight train, one he couldn’t have stopped even if he’d wanted to.
And he didn’t want to. Not when need for Isa was a fire in his blood, a haze in his mind.
He leaned forward until his lips were only an inch or so from hers. “Gideon. Is he just a friend? Or is he more?”
