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The surprise in his eyes seemed genuine. “A movie aficionado. And I did try and re-create the perfect image.”
“Hardly. I don’t have the time, but I do enjoy a man who protects the innocent. Where is your bull, Zorro?” I could tell I’d confused him. I pressed my finger against his forehead and was instantly thrown by the raging current slamming into my system, my breath instantly affected. Blinking twice, I managed to keep the smile on my face. The last thing I needed was for him to think his prowess overwhelmed me. “The real Zorro was thought to have a bull woven into his mask, the symbol of Spain.”
His nostrils flared as he allowed his hooded eyes to travel ever so slowly down my chest to my legs and finally the high stilettos I’d worn. “I will certainly remember that in the future.”
“Does that mean you actively fight for what’s right?”
He lifted his glass of champagne in a silent toast. “If only I could attest to something as courageous as what you’re suggesting, Aphrodite.”
“Does that make you an evil man?”
When he inched closer, my pulse quickened. “Yes, it does.”
“Then I’ll have to keep my distance.” I purposely took a step away, enjoying the game more than I should. Perhaps the magic of the costume was working after all.
“I’m certain you have many spirits surrounding you to keep you safe.”
“Only on the Day of the Dead.”
He seemed amused by our banter, once again lifting his glass. I noticed the black onyx ring he was wearing, which was also fitting. “A celebration of life and death, something I know far too much about.”
“I’m curious as to why.”
“Some secrets are best left… for the dead, goddess.Los muertos al ataud y los vivos a la fiesta.”
A slight shiver skated down my spine. “The dead to the coffin and the living to the party.”
“Very good. You speak Spanish.”
“Very little, but it’s a saying I’ve heard many times in the streets of New Orleans.”
“You live here.”
“Which would mean you’re a visitor to our fine city.”
“Perhaps,” he said as he returned his gaze to the painting. “La belleza de una mujer a menudo se define por su voluntad de entregarse.” His last sentence was whispered and when he turned his head once again, his eyes pierced mine.
“What did you say?”
He crowded my space, pressing the tips of his fingers against my cheek as he lowered his head. As before, electricity sparked between us, leaving me breathless. “A woman’s beauty is often defined by her willingness to surrender.”
As his hot breath cascaded across my cheek, I closed my eyes briefly, allowing his statement to reverberate in my mind. Then I pulled away completely. “Yet a strong woman refuses to surrender to a man she doesn’t know or trust.”
“Yes, a very wise decision. There are some evil men in the world, their needs savage.”
“Would you be one of those men, Zorro?”
“An intelligent man never reveals his secrets or his ultimate desires.”
His expression was all consuming, his eyes slowly peeling away my costume, exposing not only my naked body but the vulnerability as well.
“Yes, but a wise man allows a woman to see the strength of his character.”
“Before or after indulging in their primal needs?”
On any night and with any other person, I’d likely either walk away or issue a nasty retort, but he was only testing me, enjoying a game of his making. “Both. That allows for comparison in order to make a comprehensive decision.” It was as if there was no one else in the room, both of us pulled into a heated vacuum.
He was barely two inches away and I had the craziest thought about kissing him. “Ah, yes, goddess. That will allow you to toss aside anyone unworthy of your presence.”
