Page 182 of Sorrow & Strangers

I nod and glance at her in the mirror. Our dresses are ‌completely different styles. While hers fits her form perfectly, mine is a bone corset at the top, billowing softly from my waist. I decide to leave my hair down, as the ocean made it wavier than usual, even after washing it.

Alice looks at me as if she’s just noticed that she is in my bedroom and that I am also here. Her bloodred lips purse as she lets out a low wolf-whistle. “Damn. That’s your man-eater dress,” she says.

“Do I look okay?” I ask, brushing my hand over the skirt. I have no idea why I’m feeling so self-conscious and nervous. Oh wait, yes I do. It’s because of my annoying, hot, powerful stalker, whom I can’t seem to stop thinking about.

“You look like you’re ready to pull someone’s soul through their dick hole.”

Rafe groans, picking the wrong moment to enter the room. “Please, Alice,” he says, and I smile at him. He looks so dapper in his dark suit and crisp white shirt.

“Rafe. You look hot,” I say, turning to face him, delighted to see his cheeks heat. “So do you, Al.” I nudge her, pulling the attention away from Rafe.

“Yes, we’re all smokin’. Can we go?” Alice says.

She pushes Rafe and me out of the room, berating us the entire time about moving too slowly, but the second we leave the suite, she seems to calm down. She links her arm through mine as we navigate the elegant halls, following other extravagantly dressed beings. I’m so glad everyone is dressed in black-tie. I was a little concerned that I might have overdressed, but I now realize my gown could be considered conservative.

The doors to the ballroom loom ahead, and I can practically feel his waiting presence. I take a steadying breath as we enter the exquisitely decorated room. A grand chandelier hangs proudly in the center, but there are many others artfully placed across the ceiling. Everything is white and gold, with a couple of bright tropical colors added in to represent the island.

My eyes glide over the room, and there he is, drawing my gaze as if I am a magnet and he is true north. He stands beside a table on a raised dais. I meet his deep blue eyes, and I swear my heart simultaneously speeds up and skips a beat. He lifts his arm, holding his hand out to me, and I’m like a female possessed as I walk to him. Alice and Rafe follow behind me, but if they question my movements, I have no idea. I hear nothing, and I see only him.

When my fingers brush against his hand, the connection sends tingles up my arm, tightening my nipples. He pulls me up onto the dais and only drops my hand when he pulls my chair out for me. I keep my eyes on his as long as I can, only looking away when he pushes the chair in.

There is a card in the middle of the place setting, bearing my name. He was expecting me to be here and to want to sit with him.

“Is this dress for me?” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

I turn my head, and my breath hitches at how close my face is to his. I swallow down my nerves, fighting the need to lean into him. “Maybe.” It is the only word I can manage, and it comes out as a breathy whisper.

I am vaguely aware of Alice and Rafe sitting down behind their own place cards at our table, but I can’t pull my gaze away from his.

“Princess,” the stranger says, but he places his hand on my thigh, and every thought falls from my mind. The only thing blocking his hand from my skin is a piece of thin satin, yet the warmth from his hand sinks into me as if there is nothing between us. “Princess?” he says again, his fingers tightening on my thigh.

“Hm?” I blink, heat rising in my cheeks.

“You might want to explain to them⁠—”

“Yes. Summer, who is this?” Alice asks, her eyes narrowed at the male on my left.

I clear my throat. My head is still swimming a little, and I try to forget that his hand is on my thigh. “This is . . .” Fuck, what do I even call him? “Stranger.” I decide after a moment, though, I don’t like the idea of them calling him that. He’s my stranger.

Where did that come from?

Alice blinks and blinks again. “Wait . . . you mean”—she leans in ­conspiratorially—“the stranger?”

I nod once, still looking at her.

“Wait,” Rafe says, “you mean that friend of yours?”

“Yes,” I say, swallowing another bundle of nerves.

“You told them about me?” the stranger asks, brushing his thumb along the silky material covering my thigh.

I look up at him, and his gaze captures mine. “I did.”

He lifts his hand from my thigh, and I nearly whimper at the loss of contact. He reaches between our seats and grips the chair leg, pulling me closer. I gasp, but settle against him, his warmth seeping into my side. He stretches his arm across me possessively, placing his hand on my thigh farthest from him, his fingers tracing the split in my dress.

“I’m flattered,” he says, his voice full of dark seduction.

I look up at him to find all his focus centered on me. His pupils are blown, and the hunger in his eyes is so intense that everything female in me reaches for him. I bite my lower lip to hold back a whine of need. He flicks a quick look at my mouth before taking a deep, almost unsteady breath and turning his attention back to Alice and Rafe. I feel both relief and mourning at the loss, and I’m not sure how he knows, but he starts to stroke my thigh gently. With each brush of his thumb, he parts the satin a little more.