Last Christmas (Private 0.60)

pervert."

Thomas snickered quietly.

"That's enough," Ariana said firmly, her cheeks flushed and heart racing.

Daniel stared at her for a second, his eyes hard, angry, empty. Then his whole body went slack and he

punched Sergei in the shoulder. "Kidding, man. I'm just giving you a hard time."

"So can I have my camera back then?" Sergei looked bewildered.

"A little later," Daniel said with a wink. "I think it's best if I keep it for now."

The band switched to a slow song and the air suddenly smelled like hazelnut coffee. Sergei held out his hand.

"You can't just take my camera."

Daniel sat back down and cocked his head to the side. "Dude, you can't just take pictures of my girlfriend."

Sergei looked torn for a second as he stared longingly at his Nikon, then turned away. In his haste to leave he

nearly knocked over a waitress refilling water glasses at a nearby table. She glared at him and sopped up the

spill with a napkin.

"You shouldn't have done that." Ariana took a sip of champagne, hoping Isobel's message hadn't reached too

many people. Hoping they hadn't noticed that her boyfriend had just senselessly humiliated the awkward

exchange student.

Daniel held his hands up and laughed. "Hey, I was just messing

with the guy. Besides, he shouldn't being taking pictures of you. Not without asking, anyway. Guy has to

learn a little respect." His voice turned serious, and he put his hand on her knee. It felt cold and heavy.

Possessive. "You know I'd do anything for you, Ari. Anything. Don't forget that."

Ariana smiled tightly. "I won't."

Daniel's words should have sounded sweet and loving. But as Ariana caught a glimpse of Sergei across the

room, looking naked and vulnerable without his camera, she couldn't help but hear them as a threat.

PERFECT

***Ariana looked at her watch. Twelve twenty-seven a.m. She tried to fight the irritation that prickled along

her skin. Her friends had left a half hour ago, her feet ached from her ivory Chloe heels, and the ballroom was

nearly empty, save for a few stragglers and hotel maintenance workers, dutifully clearing tables and sweeping

the floors.

Stifling a yawn, Ariana surveyed the damage around her. Half-empty crystal flutes rimmed with fading

Chanel- lipstick pouts littered the tables. The tapered candles that peeked from the Christmasy centerpieces