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I pick up the glass, and she eyes hers with distrust. "Um, I’m not sure I should—"
"You absolutely should," I lick the skin between my thumb and forefinger, sprinkle it with salt, and pick up a slice of lime. "You know the drill, lick, shoot, suck."
"Is that a euphemism?" she snickers.
"You bet." I pick up the other shot glass and thrust it at her. "Bottoms up!"
She copies my action with the salt and lime, then holds up her own glass.
"That’s the spirit. On the count of one-two-three." I clink glasses with her, then lick the salt, throw back the liquor in the shot glass, and bite the lime. The alcohol slides down my throat, hits my stomach and tendrils of heat radiate out to my extremities.
"Whoa..." She shakes her head. "That was—"
"Excellent," I gesture to the bartender. "Two more, please."
"Oh, no." She backs away. "I amnotdrinking more."
"Oh, yes, you are." I shove one of the freshly-filled shot glasses into her hand. "Come on, keep me company."
She begins to protest, and I scowl. "Come on, Theresa, we need to celebrate." I refer to her upcoming nuptials to Axel, one of the—you guessed it—Sovrano brothers.
"Right..." She tosses her hair over her shoulder. "But you don’t need to get drunk to celebrate."
"Maybe not, but it helps,"especially when you want to forget what a mess you have made of your life.I raise my glass, "Come on!"
After downing the glass, she plants it upside down on the bar and backs away. "No more for me. I’m going to the bathroom."
"I’ll come with you." I begin to follow her, but she waves me off.
"You go ahead and get another drink; I’ll just head to the bathroom and back."
"Let me come with—"
She cuts me off, "I’ll be fine. I just need a minute to cool off." She brushes past me and heads for the hallway that lead to the restroom.
O-k-a-y... I didn’t piss her off, did I? Theresa is, literally, my only friend in Palermo. She hired me to work at her flower shop,The Tilting Tulip, which helped me find my feet quickly in this place. I often wish I could confide more in her, but if I revealed the fractured side of me it’d likely only put her off. No, I need to figure out how to hide the side of me that got me into trouble in the first place. I shouldn’t have come here today, really. It’s taking me too close to the edge, where it would be so easy to fall over and lose myself.
For that matter, I shouldn't have had the alcohol or indulged myself with the dancing. Especially the dancing. But gosh, did it feel good to be there in the crush of the bodies, with the music pounding down on me and drawing out all of the worries in my head. Just one more drink couldn’t hurt, right? I turn to the bartender and gesture for another shot of tequila.
A shiver spirals through me, up the hair on the nape of my neck, and pours down the valley between my breasts. My nipples swell. The heat of his body envelops me, and a second later the bartender glances over my shoulder.
"Grappa Quater." His low growl thrums in my ear, "She’ll have the same."
2
Elsa
The vibrations from his voice seem to ricochet down my body and settle in my core. He’s so close, I can feel the tension radiating off of him. Even without looking at him, the force of his dominance seems to pin me in place.Thud-thud-thud.I can feel the blood pounding in my ears. I cannot let him overpower me like this. I cannot allow him to see how attracted I am to him.
My stomach lurches, and my throat tightens. My pulse rate booms in my earswith such force thatthe world seems muted, like someone turned down the volume. I turn around to tell him off, and promptly lose my voice because he’s standing so very close to me.I tip up my chin and he scowls down the length of that patrician nose at me.
I clear my throat. "Youare in my space." I scowl.
"No,youare in mine." He takes a step closer, and I flatten myself against the bar. Not that it helps, for the tips of his shoes brush my stilettos.
"I’m not scared of you."
"Good." He rakes his gaze across my face. "That will make our interactions so much more interesting."
