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Saying something to the woman at his side, he places his drink down and walks to us.
“Well, well, well… If this isn’t the man himself,” he says, opening his arms and greeting Kai while glancing at me with curiosity.
I witness their short hug from the side.
The reception is warm, hinting that he and Kai go way back and are more than casual acquaintances.
Or business partners.
“You’ve made it, my brother,” the man says, his tuxedo falling smoothly over his hard chest.
Tall and athletic like Kai, he oozes masculinity. The slightest hint of stubble is the only thing setting a contrast to his steel-like eyes and elegant looks.
There’s a vibe of danger drifting from him, at odds with the settings, and I have a hard time putting my finger on it.
Maybe it’s the glint in his eyes.
His tattooed fingers? I don’t know.
Looking at him, I figure he could be anything. A tycoon, a drug lord, a corrupt politician, a paid assassin, or a trafficker of some sort.
The woman he’s left behind is talking to someone else while keeping an eye on him.
He turns to me, that curious glint in his eyes again.
He reminds me of Ted Sloane, with the same inquisitive gaze, only he is different. If Theodore Sloane is giving me the creeps, this man makes me hot and restless.
If I didn’t know better, I’d fidget right now.
But I do, so I stay still.
“This is your friend…” he says, a sexy Spanish accent in his voice.
He sounds like he was born here yet brought up in a bilingual family.
He turns to me while Kai makes the introductions.
It doesn’t even register with me how he introduces me to this man. I think he says nothing about who I am.
Although the man in front of me seems to have a pretty good idea of who I am and why I’m here.
And, more importantly, why I’m here with these three men.
I find his curiosity flattering, which is wrong,
I find his touch arousing, which is definitely sick. It’s not his touch alone. It’s how he looks at me.
He narrows his eyes at me as if learning everything he needs to know from these few seconds of uninterrupted contemplation.
“Nice to meet you…” he says, drawling while gently squeezing my hand.
Kai witnesses the exchange while my dress feels damp on my back. Putting his yacht at their disposition to spend some time with me last night surely made him aware of our arrangement.
Whatever the case, he likes what he sees and shoots an envious gaze at Kai.
“Roman Cardenas,” the man says to me, and my shoulders are covered in goosebumps from his voice and perfect Spanish accent.
Our hands disconnect before he looks over his shoulder.
“Let’s have some drinks,” he says, inviting us to follow him.
