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Without a single thought in my head, I put my wrist out and he fastened the bracelet around it. His gaze flicked up as he clasped it and stayed, not breaking contact.
“It’s beautiful, but not as beautiful as you,” he said.
“Oh,” I said, blushing and shaking my head. “You are a smooth operator, Duran Esposito.”
“Remember how you panicked when you accidentally spent twenty thousand on a necklace?” he said.
I nodded.
“Well, this is twice that, princess.”
My jaw dropped. Smirking, he led me downstairs and out to the waiting car. It took a lot of work to sit down and slide into the car without flashing my panties to everyone. In the end, he stood over me, his broad body a human shield between me and passersby. When he slid in next to me, I saw the rise beneath his pants.
Smiling, I crossed one leg over the other and tucked my hands together over my clutch. He had his sunglasses on, as usual, and he was swiping on his phone. I could tell he was reading by how his lips were moving.
He put the phone away abruptly and his palm rested on my thigh. The gesture was shockingly possessive. Like he already owned me.
Like he’d just taken my virginity and regretted nothing.
I stared out the window. Had that actually happened or had I dreamed it up? Last night was a blur. I knew for certain he’d fucked me because I was sore and when I clenched my inner muscles, I swore I still felt his cock in me.
But…had he really said he felt something for me?
My fingers drifted down to the absurdly expensive bracelet and twisted it absently. The city lights flashed by as we drove out on a peninsula and the driver pulled up outside a brassy, modern hotel on the water. I stayed still while Duran circled the car to help me out.
“Your panties flash every time you sit up,” he said, lifting me to my feet.
“Are you jealous?” I murmured.
He kissed the side of my neck. Butterflies burst in my stomach.
“Fuck, yes, but I don’t mind,” he said, taking my hand. “Let them look. Everyone knows whose cock you ride.”
My brows shot up to my hairline and I admitted defeat once again. He led me up the paved walkway and through the sandy garden out front.
We entered a dimly lit room set with classy tables and a large, black orchid display over the fountain in the middle. Duran ushered me beyond it and out to the balcony over the water.
I shrank back. There was a long, oval table with men dressed like Duran seated at almost every place. At their sides were elegant women, many of them glittering with thousands of dollars worth of diamonds. They were all stunning with their perfect makeup and elegant clothes.
Suddenly, I wished I’d picked a little black dress or something more sophisticated.
“What’s wrong?” Duran murmured.
“I don’t know if this is my crowd,” I squeaked.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be by me,” he said, guiding me across the patio to two empty chairs beside the head seat. I sank down to his left and he leaned over to shake the hand of the man at the head of the table.
The man greeting him was incredibly tall and broad. His hair was cut short and his bright blue eyes flicked over me for a second before focusing on Duran. He was handsome with a hint of boyishness to his face.
A flurry of words spilled from his lips. A language it took me a moment to recognize and even then it confused me. He was speaking French with a Russian accent.
I swallowed, glancing to my other side. There was a willowy, young woman with an ash blonde French twist sitting next to me. She was beautiful, like one of the women I saw on my reality shows, and her hands and neck were laden with jewels.
“Hi,” she said shyly.
“Hi, I’m Iris,” I said, offering my hand.
She shook it. “I’m Raina.”
