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My already slow-beating heart thumped, a single hard knock against my chest. How many times in the past three years had I thought I’d seen Mila only to be disappointed?
It’s not her. She’s never coming back.
I’d made my peace with that. I’d kept tabs on her. At any time, I could’ve sent men to bring her back, but I’d honored her decision to leave. A Kral keeps his promises.
Besides, this woman looked different. Thinner, harder.
My Mila had a wild cloud of chestnut hair, not a chic updo. My Mila wouldn’t have been caught dead in that short, tight-as-sin red dress and strappy high heels. And my Mila would never have set a toe in a vampire speakeasy.
Still, I couldn’t help staring. The sound of the crowd faded away. I didn’t even notice I’d loosened my grip on the thralls.
The woman’s dark, soulful eyes snagged on mine. Her mouth rounded in a softO.
And everything I thought I knew about Mila was turned on its head.
5
Mila
Gabriel Kral.
A thrum went up my spine, spread out to my belly. Even my fingers and toes tingled.
He hadn’t changed in the three years since I’d last seen him. Same long, powerful body. Same raven hair and peaked black brows. Same brilliant green eyes, like emeralds set in the strong planes of his face.
Two curvy women were stuck to him like Velcro. Andre hadn’t lied. From the back, the women could’ve been me—not now, but a few years ago, before I’d lost twenty pounds. They hung onto his biceps, nuzzling his neck, rubbing their breasts against his arms.
My mouth flattened. If he wasn’t careful, they’d drool on his shark-gray Armani suit.
But he was relaxed, smiling…until he glimpsed me across the club. The smile faded. A brief word to the thralls, and they moved on to another man.
Gabriel stalked across the club to me. He’d always reminded me of a panther. Lean. Graceful. Purposeful. Every movement controlled, predatory.
The crowd parted for him like he was royalty—which I suppose he was.
I straightened, made to shove my hands into my pockets. Except the sleeveless red bodycon dress didn’t have pockets. I left my hands on my hips, hoping I didn’t look as awkward as I felt.
He stopped a few feet away and inhaled slowly, as if testing it was really me. His gaze raked down my body before returning to my face. The heat in his eyes made me gulp.
“Mila.”
My whole body clenched. Air backed up in my lungs.
I can’t do this.
But I had to.
“Gabriel.” I coolly inclined my head and slipped past him to the bar. “A beer,” I told the bartender.
“Of course. Which one?” She indicated the row of craft beers on a shelf above her.
I hitched a shoulder. “Whatever you—”
Behind me, a dark voice murmured, “She’ll have the honey beer.”
The bartender didn’t wait for my okay, just opened the bottle and poured it into a tall glass. When the crown prince spoke, you obeyed.
“You’ll like this.” Gabriel handed the glass to me himself. “It’s got ginger, too.”
