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Carl extends his arm to introduce himself, and Ethan clenches his jaw before he turns and storms through the crowd.

“What’s his problem?” Carl asks, taking a sip of his champagne.

“I’ll be right back.” I take a step forward, but he grabs my arm. His fingers dig in a bit too deep, but his hand drops the moment I turn to face him.

“Sorry, I just want to get out of here soon. Besides, the guy seems like a jerk.”

I turn from Carl and watch Ethan walk out the side doors of the museum leading into the gardens. I’d like to tell Carl that he doesn’t know him. Truth is, I don’t either. But I want to.

“Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

I weave through the crowd, my eyes locked on one of the side doors that’s shutting slowly. When I finally reach it, I’m struggling for a breath in the confines of the dress. Pushing open the door, I step outside into the cool evening air. I scan the patio for Ethan. A shadow shifts out of the corner of my eye.

Ethan stands in the grass, sticking to the shadow the wall casts. Even at a social event, he finds a home in darkness. My feet take a few quick steps forward before my mind slows my eager steps. He glances over his shoulder at me as I approach.

“Hey…” I whisper, coming to stop behind him. His shoulders rise and fall, but he doesn’t speak. “Hello?”

Shaking his head, he keeps kicking blades of grass. A veil of red descends over my vision as he continues to ignore me.

I walk around to meet him face-to-face. His eyes remain firmly on the ground.

“What’s your problem?” I bite out through gritted teeth.

His eyes trail up my body slowly. Too slowly. An invisible cord snaps into place as our gazes meet. I squeeze my thighs together as his blue flames flick in discontent.

“Does it matter?” His gravelly voice rumbles through tight lips.

“I suppose not. Good night.” I step to the side and try to make my way inside. I came out to see if he was ok. If he wants to be a prick, he can be a prick alone.

He shifts his body in front of me, blocking my path before I’m able to step past him.

“Who is he?” he snaps.

The command in his voice sets my already frayed nerves on fire.

“Does it matter?” I twist my features into a caustic smile as I roll my eyes, purely for dramatic effect.

His attention snaps to my lips, lingering for a long moment.

The sapphire flames of his eyes flare to life, sending a tremor straight to my core. Swallowing down the saliva building in my throat, I suck my lip between my teeth, hoping the distraction helps ebb the growing slickness between my thighs. His spine straightens on a sharp breath. The connection between us tightens, preparing to snap.

“Fuck it,” he breathes out.

He hooks his arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest. His lips clash against mine with brutal force. His beard sandpapers my skin as our tongues tangle. Overcome by the need to have more of him, my frantic fingers grip the collar of his shirt, pulling him into me. His fingers trail along the skin of my back, and my core turns molten. The rough pads of his fingers glide up the back of my neck into my hair. Our frenzied kiss breaks as he tugs my head back. His lips hover inches from mine. Each ragged breath he takes sweeps across my face. His electric blue eyes brand into me with a searing heat.

“It matters.” His gravelly voice echoes over the sound of blood pulsing in my ears. He releases me as he takes a step back. The collar of his white shirt lies crumpled over the lapel of his black tuxedo.

Unable to form a coherent thought, I stand breathless, while he turns on his heel and leaves. Without a second glance my way, he steps through the doors.

The faint imprint of his lips on mine has me lifting my fingers to my lips. The cool night air blows against the sweat gathered along my skin, helping me to compose myself. Making my way back inside, I scan the room for Ethan, but find Carl standing alone in a corner instead. In a few strides, I’m by his side.

Snatching his champagne glass, I toss the contents back. The liquid tickles the back of my throat as I swallow. A waiter walks by with a tray of full glasses, and I exchange my empty glass for two full ones. Handing Carl his replacement, I turn my attention to the one between my fingers, and down the contents.

“Damn, Patience. Slow down.” Judging by the large grin on Carl’s face, my attempt at washing away whatever just happened in the garden amuses him.

I spot the full glass still clutched in his hand. Smiling, I lean in to take the glass from him.

His eyes narrow as I smack my lips and set the empty glass on the table.