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I sigh, knowing I’m in trouble. I should never have agreed to dance with him.
Chapter5
Callan
She’s doingher best to help maintain small talk and is extremely nervous around me. You’d have to be blind not to notice and I like that she’s not practiced and methodical when it comes to being around a man. There’s none of the coyness and fake laughter I normally see in women. I’m enjoying myself immensely as we move around the dance floor. When the song turns slow, I pull her into me, trying to keep my hand at the small of her back. I want to make a good impression, but her curves are like a siren’s call, luring me in. I love having my arms around her way more than I anticipated. Her soft floral perfume tickles my nose as we sway to the song.
“I was expecting to have a horrible time tonight, but instead, find that I’m having the best night of my life,” I tell her, cutting into the lull of conversation between us. I can’t seem to stop wanting to talk to her.
She pulls back a bit to look up at me with her bluish-green eyes as her brow crinkles.
“Do you know how to have a normal conversation with a woman?” she asks incredulously.
“What do you mean?” Her defenses should be off-putting, but they only add to my desire for her. She’s not easily swayed, and I find I like that.
“Every other sentence out of your mouth is a line.” She gives me a look as if prompting me to argue, and I take the challenge.
“You’re wrong there. I’m not feeding you a line, and in fact, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
Zoe studies me for a long while. I watch her pupils dilate and hear her breath hitch.
“Andthat was another line,” she says, drawing the word out, chastising me.
“Who taught you to be so defensive?” I question, watching her eyes cloud. It’s almost as if her thoughts go to somewhere far away before she shakes her head. I frown because I don’t like the idea that she was hurt, but I hate the thought that some other man being special to her even more.
I pull away from her, taking her hand and leading her away from the dance floor to the patio that overlooks the ocean. The salt air fills my lungs as we get to the railing that follows along the line of the roof. The dance room’s walls are all glass and that allows the lights to filter out in a rainbow of colors. The open area we just walked through is one giant door that lifts like a garage door but recedes out of sight completely, leaving the space open and inviting.
This isn’t my usual type of space. Niko and I weren’t born into this life, yet with Zoe next to me, I find that I feel like a king. I watch her as she takes in the view and smiles.
“I know you don’t know me, but eventually, you’ll understand that I don’t operate in the way you’re accusing me. I legitimately want to spend time with you.”
She looks at me for a second before asking the dreaded question. This could be a make or break with some women, and I don’t like that she wants to pick apart my answers.
“Why?” she asks.
“Why?”
“Yeah, why do you want to get to know me?”
“I didn’t know I needed a reason, but I have a few.”
“What are they?”
“I’m attracted to you, you’re beautiful, and I want to know more about you,” I respond, waiting to see if I’m passing some kind of invisible test that she’s giving me. The more we talk, the more I like her. She’s inquisitive and not afraid to challenge me as some others are. It’s also interesting that she’s not blindly accepting my answers. She seems to want to pick me apart with rational judgment. As an attorney that does that exact thing without thought, I find it only adds to her appeal.
“Beauty is subjective. I know darn well that I’m not the kind of woman you normally date,” she says, shaking her head.
“How do you know that? You know nothing about me,” I counter.
“I know your type,” Zoe argues.
“Doubtful.” I don’t even bother fighting the smile coming to my lips.
With a frown, Zoe continues, “Your suit is expensive enough to feed a third-world country for a year, if not longer. You’re a lawyer who reeks of money—smooth and confident. If we saw one another in a regular day-to-day setting, you wouldn’t spare me a second glance.”
“You’re wrong,” I tell her, getting a laugh out of her.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffs, shaking her head as she fights the urge to roll her eyes.
