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“I try not to. Enjoy.” She batted her long, sooty lashes. His cock twitched. His gut tightened again. Some women just possessed that certain je ne sais quoi. This one possessed it in spades.
Bayli moved on, making recommendations to his friends and lighting their cigars as well.
Just as she had clearly researched him right down to the cognac he preferred, Christian would find out what he could about her. Piper and Jackson Rutherford, the owners of the estate and the hosts of this evening’s event, would be able to provide the information on the modeling agency that represented Bayli, and Christian could easily track her down that way.
As he contemplated this and his gaze remained on her while she gracefully migrated to a larger group, Christian’s brain already churned with a new spin for his and Rory’s project. A completely different construct that would capitalize on the raven-haired beauty’s radiance and personable demeanor. She’d draw a huge crowd, tons of fans. She just needed a bigger audience than tonight’s festivities, a grander stage.
Christian and Rory could give it to her.
If Bayli Styles truly wanted to be a star, Christian was positive he and Rory could make it happen for her.
* * *
Bayli felt his gaze on her as she continued to make the rounds. She didn’t glance over her shoulder, though of course she’d hoped from the get-go to garner Christian Davila’s attention. What she hadn’t considered was how he’d affect her. There was some serious sizzling and crackling going on inside her over having caught his eye—over the fact that she held his interest.
She’d experienced a vibrant spark when she’d first met Rory at the restaurant and he’d unabashedly taken her in from head to toe. But they’d both been irritated with each other and then their introduction had turned into a crazy hot mess and she’d pretty much ignored that he’d lit her up. The way Christian Davila did. So that her clit tingled and her inner thighs flamed.
Like Rory, Christian was ridiculously gorgeous. She’d known this already, had perused plenty of articles on him in Forbes and Time and a slew of epicurean magazines. He was tall and had thick, luxurious obsidian-colored hair that went well with his tanned skin and his mesmerizing ice-blue eyes. Eyes that were alert and intelligent, even a trifle cunning in a mysterious, intriguing way. As though he were perpetually mulling over his next great success.
And there wasn’t a hint of recognition in them, telling her Rory had not mentioned her to Christian. A little disappointing, because
that meant she hadn’t been the least bit noteworthy to the chef, even though she’d felt the searing heat between them.
But she surmised this gave her the chance she needed to connect with Christian without the dark cloud of her misadventure with Rory looming over her head.
Still, it was kind of odd that the culinary god had looked at her with flames fringing his eyes and had then promptly dismissed her. There’d been something else reflected in those smoldering dark-brown irises of Rory’s … something undefinable. As though he were running scenarios well beyond her comprehension through his mind. Sexual or otherwise?
A little thrill raced down her spine at the prospect of it being the former.
Admittedly, it’d been a bit challenging to focus on the conversation and searing dynamic with him, because Rory St. James was magnetic with his primal intensity and his overwhelming presence. He was tall and athletic looking, likely riddled with rigid muscles under his chef’s jacket. His bronze-colored hair was thick and bushy. Unruly by design, she suspected.
He had rough edges to him, no doubt there. Whereas Christian was much more refined.
They were the perfect complement to each other.
Which made an interesting—though highly lascivious notion—pop into her head regarding the high-profile entrepreneurs. Bayli had seen Rory featured in most of those articles with Christian and they made for a double dose of sexiness. Especially since a beautiful woman usually stood between them, a mischievous expression on her face. As though she had a naughty secret she was dying to tell the world.
Bayli had seen that look before. One of her best friends, Jewel Catalano, wore the expression well when she was out and about with her two lovers, Rogen Angelini and Vin D’Angelo.
At first, the idea of being shared by two men had confused Bayli. Not just the physical mechanics of the situation but also the emotional aspect. It seemed there’d be a hell of a lot of jealousy and fragile egos and feelings to work with, not to mention three hearts were always on the line.
But Rogen and Vin had been best friends since they were kids and Jewel had always been tangled up with them. First Rogen, then Vin. Then the two of them at the same time.
At the same time.
Another wicked shudder ran through Bayli.
What must that be like?
To have two men devoted to her pleasure, devoted to giving her whatever she wanted in bed, whatever she needed.
Bayli couldn’t help wondering if Christian Davila and Rory St. James believed in the power of three as well.
An incredibly forbidden and yet highly scintillating fantasy …
One that wove a spell on her as she finished making the rounds. Obviously, she’d had a specific reason for saving the Black Dragon for Christian and ensuring he knew she’d taken the time to study up on him. Bayli hoped she’d left that indelible impression she needed so that Christian would mention her favorably to Rory and then Bayli could reengage the chef about the hostess position.
The party wound down and she returned the humidor to the Rutherfords’ event planner, Kristin Harding, who told her, “Piper and Jackson are quite pleased you pulled off your hostess role so fantastically. Numerous guests commented on your grace and how inviting you were. Mr. Davila, in particular, expressed his appreciation for your expertise.”
