Page 101 of Pervade Montego Bay
“You’ve met him before?” I said sternly. “You failed to share this with me.”
Louis gave a shrug. “Didn’t think anything of it.”
Shit.
Emily was heading in the journalist’s direction.
Her hips were swaying elegantly, and she looked stunning in her gown. She stood out like a rare jewel. When she played her violin, she’d have everyone swarming around her, commanding their attention.
Barefoot, holding those strappy heels in her hand, she walked across the marble tile emanating the kind of freedom I coveted. Maybe that was why she held such an allure. Emily was everything I wanted and could never have. She was a mirror to my solitude. The beauty to my beast. The way her hair curled in luscious waves down her back made me want to brush my fingers through their silkiness.
I wanted to breathe her in and stay in that moment.
“I was going to tell you about the journalist,” said Louis quietly. “Didn’t want to ruin your evening.”
“It’s fine,” I told him. “I’ll handle it.”
After a glance at Xavier that told him to watch over Louis, I bolted after Emily.
Once outside, I saw her pulling on her shoes, seemingly unaware that a young man was making a beeline toward her—it was the journalist from the photo.
Soon, we’d have his entire life dissected and all his weaknesses presented to me on a platter. Journalists could play dirty. I’d raise the stakes to my level and play deadly.
I cut him off and made it to Emily first. “Dance.”
With my hand gripping hers, I led her away from the stranger. His stare stayed on us all the way to the dance floor. I could give the order to throw him out but that would only rile his curiosity. We needed a strategy that would extract him artfully.
Emily and I weaved between the tables until we reached the space where several other couples were smooching to Bob Marley’s “Is this Love.”
Fuck, why did it have to be this song?
“You’re talking to me again?” she muttered under her breath.
“Evidently.” I pulled her into a hug.
“I’m honored.”
With her right hand in mine and my left hand on the arch of her spine, I led her in a slow circle.
Don’t think about the fact she’s pantiless.
“Why are you avoiding me, James?”
“Let’s discuss this at home.” I glanced back at Trevor, relieved to see he was no longer watching us.
“Home?”
I snapped my focus back to her. “My place.”
“Right.”
“We believe he’s a journalist, Emily.”
“He wanted to talk with Louis. Why?”
My body went rigid with tension. “Not sure. There’s no news here.” A lie I almost believed.
She moved closer and her pelvis brushed mine.
