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With a fresh wave of confidence, I stroll toward the bar, my eyes trained on my target. Maybe he can hear the determined stomp of my heels heading his way, or maybe he’s developed a sixth-sense for trouble overnight, but his eyes slide up from his glass as I approach. Even back-lit by the bright lights of the bar, I can see his gaze roll over my black heels, up the parting of my coat, and come to mine. Something within it flickers to life, and strangely, I feel it in my own pulse.
Anna’s anecdote dissolves on my arrival, and her lust-filled expression hardens into something that would scald me if it were tangible. She’s unnervingly beautiful. Midnight-black hair, feline features, and a body I’m sure makes anyone with eyes do a double-take.
“So sorry, babe. Do you mind?”
She stares at me. “Mind what?”
“If I steal Raphael for a few minutes.”
She shows no signs of moving, until Raphael’s silky tone slices through the tension.
“It was great to catch up, Anna.”
A heady thrill zaps through my body like an electric current. Even an idiot could take the hint, and Anna stalks off. I’ve definitely made a new enemy on the Coast, which is a shame, because I’d like to have made friends first, but I’ll worry about that later. Right now, I’m too focused on trying to pretend I can’t feel the crackle of Rafe’s presence as I order a drink.
“You know; I’m starting to think you have a crush on me.”
My jaw tightens, and I keep my eyes trained on the bartender’s swooshing ponytail as she fixes my vodka and lemonade. “What on earth would give you that idea?”
“Because you can’t seem to leave me alone.”
Irritation, embarrassment, and something more vibrant,tingle in my face like pins and needles. It’s ridiculous, I know, but knowing there’s no way he talks to other women like this makes a thrill buzz under my skin.
Pathetic. Because of course he talks like this to me—I stole his fucking watch.
“Or maybe I just want to see you shut your dick in a car door.”
“Or maybe you just want to see my dick.”
I freeze, then snap my head around to glare at him. When I allow a beat of stunned silence to pass, Raphael’s lips tilt before disappearing behind a lazy sip of whiskey. He thinks he’s won. My cheeks grow hotter than the heat lamp above my head, and I let out a sardonic laugh.
“Odd. Everyone seems to think you’re quite the gentleman, but talking about your dick so much isn’t exactly a gentlemanly habit.”
The only thing that moves is the muscle flexing against his jaw. And then with the same reluctance one has when getting out of bed in the morning he drags his gaze to mine.
“And you? What do you think?”
“I think I’m not so easily fooled.”
His eyes fall to my lips, a slow, devilish smirk spreading across his own. Although his smile is cold, it creates a warmth in my core, which drifts like a summer breeze between my legs.
“And you, Penelope? Are you a lady?”
I don’t like the mocking edge to his tone. The silk marred with sarcasm gets my back up. I tilt my chin and harden my stare. “Yes.”
He runs a hand across his face, wiping off a hint of amusement. “Ah.”
“Ah what?”
“I’m not so easily fooled, either.”
His tone is low and soft, as if designed for my ears only. A nervous energy rolls over the planes of my shoulders, and I press my palms onto the bar to bear the brunt of it. Of course he doesn’t think I’m a lady. I’m not. No lady wears dresses with the security tags still on, nor do they make a living by tricking men out of watches on a Thursday night.
I let out a shaky huff of breath and Raphael’s gaze narrows on the puff of condensation floating between us. “What was it you wanted, again? To play another of your tacky games?”
“If you’re brave enough.”
I don’t know why I say it—I’ve gone straight—but it’s out of my mouth before I can stop it. A knee-jerk reaction to an insult, I suppose, embedded deep within me like the rest of my flaws.
