“Hello,” he said, his voice hard to make out over the music.
But she didn’t need to hear him. Her gaze locked with his, and the impact was nothing short of explosive. Awareness sent a rush of heat straight between her legs. Awareness that spoke of the kind of instant attraction rarely shared between strangers. Potent. Electric.
She swallowed hard, looking into deep, dark eyes. Dim light hid their exact color but, again, it didn’t matter. They were soulful. Rich with mystery and seduction, perhaps a hint of danger.
Before she knew his intentions, he closed the distance between them, kneeling down beside her. With her legs crossed, her knee was angled toward him. His gaze dropped to the sandal dangling from her toes, and then did a slow glide up her calf, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
When his eyes lifted, his lips hinted at a smile and one right dimple. “Nice color,” he said, glancing at her ruby-red toenail polish.
She uncrossed her legs, feeling amazingly aroused by something as silly as a man noticing her toenail polish. If he was this detailed in his observations out of bed, well, she couldn’t help but wonder what detail he’d manage in bed.
Tugging on her slim blue dress, she pushed her knees together, despite an incredible yearning to simply spread them for this stranger. Compliments of the intense scrutiny she’d just endured from those seductive eyes of his, she could distinctly feel the gathering of wetness on her panties.
The man got her that ready, that fast.
It’s what she called talent, because no one had done that to her in a very, very long time. So long she’d started to wonder if her sexuality switch had been flipped to a permanent off.
He inched forward, still kneeling, now so close he could lean in and be touching her. She wanted him, too. Almost as much as she wanted to reach out and feel the silky strands of his hair.
He offered her his palm, but the invitation of more sizzled in the air. “Dance?”
Her gaze dropped to his hand. A strong hand with long fingers. A hand that could be gentle and forceful. A hand that could deliver both pleasure and pain. And for the briefest of moments, she wondered what his hands would feel like on her body. Relax, she told herself. Enjoy this brief interlude. Enjoy.
“No name?” she asked, a playful note in her voice matching how she was feeling. “No introduction? Just straight to the dance floor?”
His hand settled on his leg and her gaze followed, a quick summation of his appearance in progress. Black boots, black slacks. Her eyes traveled, heart racing as her attention skimmed his midsection, his zipper. She swallowed hard and jerked her attention upward, away from the temptation, to his matching V-neck sweater that stretched snugly over a nice, broad chest. He was nothing like the men in her world in their conservative suits and ties, and she liked it. She liked it a lot.
Suddenly, his cheek was next to hers, the warmth of his body surrounding her. “The name is Constantine,” he whispered seductively, drawing her attention back to his face. To the dimple in his chin and his dark, mesmerizing eyes. He offered his hand again. “Now we dance?”
She should say no. She didn’t have time for sex games and drama. She’d seen what they did to her ex and had almost done to her. How they distorted perceptions, shifted priorities. But then, this was nothing more than a simple dance, a fun diversion that meant nothing. It was crazy to think she couldn’t have a little enjoyment without losing touch with reality.
Nicole slid her palm against Constantine’s, suppressing a shiver as he closed long, sensual fingers around hers. “Now we dance,” she declared.
Chapter Two
NICOLE WARD made him hot. Plain and simple. Far more than he’d expected at a distance.
And with her soft curves pressed against his body, swaying to the rhythmic beat of a slow song, dangerously hot possibilities played in his mind. To say he was aroused would be an understatement. He was aroused all right, cock stiff, hands burning for exploration.
She was a petite little thing, and his chin easily rested on her head; he inhaled the floral scent of her hair. Jasmine, he decided, with just a hint of vanilla. Would her skin smell like that, too?
Suddenly, the dance floor was far too crowded. Bending at the knees, he nuzzled her neck and ear, and then whispered, “Let’s go to the lobby bar where we can…talk.”
She flexed her fingers on his chest and then tilted her chin up to look at him, her eyes probing, intent. Finally, she eyed the table she’d been sharing with her sister. Following her lead, he eased her around for a better view, still working with the flow of the music.