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“But then I saw you, here.”
“You
mean, you followed me here!”
“You give yourself too much importance, cara. Do you really think I have nothing better to do than to spend my time following you?” A little muscle was ticking in his cheek. “I came here with friends. To enjoy the evening.” He paused. “And, it would seem, so did you.”
“Yes. And—and my date will be looking for—”
“Your date didn’t move a finger to prevent you from abandoning him. Or to keep me from going after you.” He paused, and she saw his eyes darken. “I noticed that you treated your gentleman friend differently than you treated me.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Cara. Please, don’t try my patience. You laughed with him. Smiled when he spoke to you.”
“Of course. I mean, I know him—”
“Really? What’s his name?”
“Ted,” Aimee said quickly.
“No. It is not.”
It had been a gamble, but a good one. Nicolo watched as the woman worried her bottom lip. He’d guessed right. She had no idea who she’d been dancing with. She’d picked the man up.
For many of its patrons, that was the purpose of a place like this.
Her business, of course.
That was what he’d told himself, when he first saw her with the man.
But he’d watched as she smiled. Flirted. Shook her hips, her breasts. Practiced the fine art of seduction.
For another man.
Not for him.
Not for him, he’d thought, and suddenly he’d known that confronting her, kissing her, would not be enough.
He wanted her.
It didn’t make sense but it didn’t have to. His body, his blood, knew what he needed.
And what he needed was this beautiful, condescending stranger dancing with him…
Dancing in his bed.
Slowly he reached out, laced one finger under the thin strap of her red dress and tugged. She stumbled toward him, arms raised, hands balled into fists.
He caught her wrists in one hand.
“Don’t struggle,” he said in a low voice. “It will only make things worse.”
“Please.” Her voice trembled. “Please, don’t do this.”
“I told you this afternoon, you lack manners, cara.”
“Let me go! Damn you—”
