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She pasted on her brightest smile. “I do like surprises,” she said, hating having to lie. A pity it was a necessary evil.
His dark eyes studied her, assessed her, a faint frown marring his smooth brow. Then he dragged a rough hand through his even rougher, bedroom hair, and said, “Good, that’s great. I’d better get ready.” He pivoted and strode away, his back muscles flexing with the movement. “See you tonight,” he added over his shoulder.
Chapter Twelve
With little to do all day, Luna had made use of her bikini and returned to the beach, swimming and sunbathing half the day away, then dining at a local pub for a chicken parmigiana that she loved to indulge in on occasion.
Back in Aiden’s penthouse suite, she took her time to wash her hair and blow it dry. She decided to keep the curls. Now was not the time for him to forget what he’d always liked about her.
She had no idea what he’d planned for tonight. Dinner? A show? A movie? He hadn’t mentioned dressing up, so she went halfway with a long floaty skirt in pink and silver and a white lacy crop top that showed off her recent tan.
Catching the sides of her hair back in silver clips, she slid her feet into the heels she’d worn last night and applied a light makeup, highlighting her eyes this time with mascara and some light shadow.
Satisfied with her appearance, she strolled back into the kitchen. Aiden still hadn’t made an appearance, so she opened his refrigerator and pulled out a chilled bottle of champagne, then poured a flute of the bubbly decadence.
She was halfway through it when the door opened and Aiden stepped inside. “Wow,” he said, his eyes devouring her. “Maybe I should have planned to stay in.”
She arched a brow. “Is it bad that I’m starting to feel like a sex object?”
He snorted. “You want me to answer that?” When she nodded, he loosened his tie and stepped toward the bathroom. “In that case, let me think on it while I have a shower and get ready.”
She was onto her second glass when he returned in jeans and a white polo shirt. It was about as casual as she’d seen him, and yet he still looked incredible. His height and his lean but powerful physique were enough of a drawcard without adding in his dark good looks. “Well?” she drawled, taking another sip of her drink. “Did you think on it?”
He approached with a dark chuckle, grabbing himself a flute and pouring what was left in the bottle. “I do enjoying having sex with you,” he allowed. “But there is so much more to you than just physical intimacy.”
“Oh?”
He took a mouthful. “You’re my best friend, too. The girl next door I never forgot.”
The champagne suddenly churned in her stomach. He had forgotten her! He’d never once tried to contact her, to return and apologize or ask if she was okay. He’d simply turned his back on her after he’d dumped her, and he’d moved on with his life.
“Really,” she murmured, somehow keeping her voice neutral, tame.
“You’re not exactly an unforgettable type of girl,” he said, his gaze moving like a caress over her face and then her body. “You’ve always stood out, and not just because of your gorgeous hair and body, and your fashion sense, but your amazing outlook on life, your caring and open nature.”
“And yet you left me behind,” she gritted out, then wanted to slap a hand over her mouth for reminding him of the past and her desolation. She didn’t want him to feel guilt right now, she hoped he’d be swamped in that particular emotion later. Well, maybe not guilt, but at least a good amount of hurt.
