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When she stepped inside the elevator, he immediately pressed the CLOSE button. Wherever she was going, he would be following. He had to have her tonight. Right this minute, preferably. He checked his watch. Ten minutes, he promised himself. Ten minutes to seduce her and then he would find a way to make it to his meeting.
He looked at the woman with hooded eyes, not bothering to hide his desire for her.
Misty’s heart slammed against her chest. Oh. My. God. That look.
“Where to?” Domenico asked huskily.
It took a while for Misty to answer. “34th.” Her voice came out all throaty, and by the way Domenico’s green gaze darkened, Misty knew he thought she was already working on seducing him. Well, that was good. At least he didn’t know her bedroom voice was because of sheer nerves. She tried her best not to stare at him, but it was hard. He was so gorgeous, but more than that, Domenico looked more...playful. Wickedly so, but still. He had none of the intimidatingly serious aura that he usually had.
Even his taste in clothes was different, Misty mused. In their world, Domenico was usually dressed in neutral colors, but here he was very fashionable, with his silver-lined jacket, skinny jeans, and expensive leather shoes. He wore it with such incredibly arrogant flair Misty had a feeling it was another way for Domenico to get back at his father. If Dio here was the same as he was back in their world, this kind of thing would definitely get to the older Moretti.
She couldn’t stop staring at him. Did he really not remember her? She knew that was what the jinn said, but it was hard to fathom that he could forget her. She didn’t mind that the others did, but...Domenico was different. Domenico was her heart, as she was his. Couldn’t even the smallest part of him recognize her?
“You like what you see?” His purring had her swallowing.
“Y-yes?” God, it was hard not to throw herself at Domenico when he was being this...seductive.
“What’s your name?”
“Misty.” She was more than a little surprised he had to ask. She had assumed she was working for Domenico, just like how it was in their world. But apparently she wasn’t, which meant...who was she really working for?
“Misty.” Domenico savored saying her name, finding it strangely appropriate. She felt elusive to him, like a mist he wanted to own even knowing it was impossible.
She thought about asking his name but didn’t know if she could lie about not knowing it. In the end, she stayed silent, unable to decide what to do or say next. She glanced at her watch. 22:40. Over twenty-two hours still. No need to panic yet—-
There was a sudden groaning sound, and the elevator shook to a stop before everything was plunged into darkness.
Misty screamed.
One firm hand grabbed hold of her, squeezing reassuringly. “I’m here.”
“W-what happened?” Misty immediately inched closer to Domenico.
A second later, back up lights of the elevator switched into operation.
“I guess the power’s gone out.” Domenico shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the rail. He did so carefully, taking his time, wanting to be certain that Misty would not realize how the darkness got to him. “I’m not sure how long before it comes back or before they figure out we’re here.”
“It’s okay,” Misty hastened to assure him, not wanting Domenico to feel he was stuck with a potential crybaby. “I’m not claustrophobic or anything.”
“I see.”
Minutes passed.
Misty blurted out, “Are you okay?”
“Why do you ask?” Domenico tried not to sound defensive.
She thought about telling him she knew all his mannerisms, and that Domenico shaking his hand as if getting ready to punch someone meant he was uneasy. But then if she told him that, he’d probably think she was either crazy or an obsessed stalker.
In the end, she said weakly, “You don’t, umm, sound good?”
His chilly look told her what he thought of her words.
Riiiight. Domenico had always hated showing any kind of weakness, and apparently a change of worlds didn’t change that fact about him either.
As more minutes passed and Domenico’s tension grew and his pallor became pale, Misty desperately racked her brains for a way to make him relax. As far as she knew, Domenico wasn’t claustrophobic, but maybe something here had happened to make him that way.
“Umm, do you want to hear a joke?”
Domenico blinked. When it seemed what he heard was exactly what his curvy little bunny had said, he said slowly, “Did you just say something about a joke?”
“Err, yes? I was told that I tell really good ones.” God, what a lie. Actually, Domenico liked to tell Misty he only laughed at her jokes because he loved her.
When she gazed up at him expectantly, Domenico asked bluntly, “Are you high?”
She choked. “I’m not. I’m serious. Let me tell you a joke, and I promise you won’t be cla—-” At his narrowed gaze, she managed to stop herself from saying ‘claustrophobic’. “I meant, I promise you would be clapping your hands in laughter.”
