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His grasp is firm and hot and certain. He holds my hand like a lover. Like a man who remembers as well as I do how often I’ve placed my trust in him and allowed him to lead me into every sensual place he wanted us to explore. After all the months we’ve been apart, he touches me like a man who’s very much aware that he knows me better than anyone before him, or since.
His thumb brushes over the back of my hand. “Ready to run away from me already again?”
“I’m not running anywhere.” I pull out of his loosened hold. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been gone for a long time, Nick. I’ve moved on.”
“Have you?”
The question has an edge of challenge to it that makes me bristle. “What do you want from me? Don’t you have anything better to do than trying to make me squirm?”
A world of meaning churns in his gaze, all of it dark and sensual. Arrogantly so. As intimate as a caress. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Avery.”
“Good. Because I’m not going to do this with you. Not now. Not here.”
“Then let’s go somewhere else.”
The suggestion makes me gape. “Leave with you? You can’t be serious.”
But he is. Dominic Baine offers nothing without careful deliberation. And when he sees something he wants, he pursues it with singular determination. I should know. That’s how I ended up in his bed in the first place.
“I want you to go now, Nick.”
I glance away from him because I have to. Because if I don’t, I might be tempted to forget that this reception is important to me. And because if I stare any longer into those searing blue eyes, I might be tempted to forget about the fact that I came here with another man.
A good, decent man who’s been nothing but kind to me in the two weeks we’ve been dating. I spot Brandon in the crowd finally. He’s slowly making his way toward me, glasses of champagne in hand as he pauses here and there to converse and laugh with his colleagues from the university.
“Please, Nick. Just . . . go.”
He follows my gaze into the throng, where Brandon now heads our way. Something dark flickers across Nick’s face when he glances back at me. “Does he know about us?”
“No.”
The denial feels like a betrayal of its own, despite the fact that Brandon and I have only been dating a short while. I haven’t confided in him about anything, least of all the months I spent in Nick’s bed. As for the rest of our history together, I have no intention of sharing that with Brandon or anyone else. There’s only one man who knows every secret and jagged facet of me and he’s staring at me now with a look that’s intimate and raw, seeing through me in the way he has from the very beginning.
As unsettling as Nick’s scrutiny of me is, by the time Brandon arrives, his expression is shuttered into one of schooled indifference.
“Here you are!” Brandon grins as he hands me one of the flutes. “I’ve been looking for you for the past ten minutes. Sorry to keep you waiting on the bubbly. I ran into the dean at the bar and he started showing me pictures of his grandkids.”
“It’s all right,” I murmur, taking the sweaty glass and watching as Brandon’s attention flits to Nick. “Brandon, have you met Dominic Baine?”
“No, I haven’t had the pleasure.” He thrusts out his hand, pumping Nick’s enthusiastically. “Brandon Snyder, sir. Art History department. It’s wonderful to meet you, Mr. Baine. My colleagues and I are very grateful for your generous contributions to our fine institution over the years.”
Nick’s contributions. No wonder he was invited to the reception. I smile and sip my champagne as Brandon continues to effuse over Nick and the donations he’s made to various departments of the university.
Before I realize it, I’ve drained my glass. Brandon notices it too. Chuckling, he draws me under his arm. “Better take it easy on the bubbly, sweetheart. You need to be on stage for your speech in a few minutes.”
“I’ll be fine.” I can’t keep from looking at Nick as Brandon presses a kiss to my temple. It’s a tender, yet possessive, move that shouldn’t bother me, yet all I can feel is the measuring heat of Nick’s gaze as he watches us together.
“We should head that way,” Brandon reminds me. “Dean Witherspoon told me he’d like to say hello to you before everyone else starts gathering for his closing remarks.”
“All right.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Brandon says, extending his hand to Nick once more. “Really great to meet you, sir. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have to steal my girl for a few minutes.”
Nick merely grunts in response.
He doesn’t look at me, but I burn under the intensity of his silence as Brandon places his hand at the small of my spine and leads me away.
Chapter 3
