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"I relocated here a few days ago to move in with my boyfriend, Dane Evans. He's a friend of theirs, too."
"Ahh, interesting. Welcome to London." He turns to Laurel, who is standing there, gawking.
Quickly recovering, Laurel gives Graham a provocative smile, her eyes brazenly raking him. He reciprocates, his gaze lingering on the partially exposed swell of her breasts.
"This is my sister, Laurel. She was sweet enough to accompany me to London and will be staying with us for the next month."
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Graham's gaze moves from Laurel's chest to her lips.
"Same here," Laurel says with a ravenous look.
I'm ready to die seconds later when I catch Laurel's gaze blatantly slide to Graham's crotch and his expression of shameless approval that follows.
"Hmm, it seems it's time for dinner." Graham glances at the guests, moving in a wave toward the tables. "Let's see where they put us." He takes hold of Laurel's arm and escorts her across the room.
Dane rejoins me by the bar and peers at me warily. "You're making a face. Is something wrong?"
I nod toward Laurel, now seated at the table with Graham. "Not wrong, just dangerous," I quip nervously.
Dane follows my gaze. "Should I do something?"
"Nope. Laurel's a big girl. Besides, if she wants something, she'll take it anyway. I suppose I should have warned you."
"I gathered as much, but I can't say the next month won't be interesting."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be."
Dane escorts me to the table, and we sit in our designated places, which are nowhere near Laurel. We're soon drawn into an animated conversation.
Dinner winds down, and multiple guests get up from the tables, moving to the terrace as the evening's DJ begins his set. Dane takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor, where Iforget all about Laurel. After several dances, a slow song comes on, and I bury my face in Dane's neck, savoring the scent of his cologne as we sway to the music. We kiss when the dance ends, and I can feel Eloise watching us from across the terrace.
Dane takes a step back. "It's getting late, and people are leaving. We should go. What do you think?"
"I don't mind, but I need to let Laurel know." I scan the dance floor and terrace but don't see her. Spinning around in a half circle, I check the dining room, but Laurel isn't there either.
No way! She wouldn't, would she?
My eyes widen as I scan the dining room and terrace again, this time for Graham Stewart, who has also disappeared.
I turn to Dane, feeling my heart rate rising. "I'm going to run to the ladies' room. I'll be right back." I figure I should check there before I panic and tell Dane Laurel is gone. Once there, I nervously call out, "Laurel, are you in here?" But there's no response.
I'm about to leave when the door opens, and a woman walks in. And of all people, it's Eloise.
"Oh, it's you.The American," she jeers.
"And what of it?" I snap. I wasn't going to let her get to me. But she's rudely opening her mouth, and I'm edgy because of Laurel.
"Nothing. It doesn't matter anyway. You'll be going home soon." Eloise dismisses me as if I were a pesky gnat.
"If you mean home to Kensington, you're right since I moved in with Dane."
"Excuse me?" she says, her tone irritatingly shrill.
"You heard me." My voice is gritty, and I'm itching to smack her down an octave or two.
Eloise executes some weird eye roll, then looks at me as if I disgust her. "All I can say is Dane must have lost his mind. I mean, my God, look at your face. Your complexion is so bad you can't even cover it properly."
I peek at my nose in the mirror and let out a small gasp. Between my sweating on the dance floor, snuggling against Dane, and the chafed condition of my skin, some of my makeup has worn off, and the abrasion is partially showing. Embarrassed, I flip into defensive mode.
