Page 18 of The Duke's Virgin

Not the tall, lean man with his dark brown hair and sculpted face and a mouth that looked like Michelangelo might have played a part in its creation.

He’d strolled right in and came up to Aeric as if they’d been friends for years.

His eyes had flicked to mine, and he’d greeted me, given me his name.

Luka.

My belly flipped again, just thinking about how close he’d been to me.

“You’re acting like a girl who just saw a guy naked for the first time,” I muttered, disgusted with myself.

And wasn’tthata stupid thought to allow into my head? Because now I was thinking about Luka naked.

* * *

I should just ask him,I decided on my walk back to the party.

Not even twenty seconds later, I changed my mind. Ishouldn’task him. What I needed to do was mingle—I knew how to do it, even if I wasn’t always comfortable. Nobody ever realized just howuncomfortableI was with the socializing thing because I’d gotten good at faking my comfort level.

I’d make my way through the party, find a guy who seemed to click and put the proposal before him.

It was simple.

Women did this thingallthe time, didn’t they?

Yes. They did.

So just askhim.

The internal argument circled over and over again in my head. In an effort to quell it, I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server. It tasted like liquid gold and pure luxury, the bubbles dancing down my throat and going straight to my head. After the first reckless, deep drink, I slowed down. I had to pace myself, or I’d end up too drunk to propositionanybody—or I’d do it in the worst possible way and humiliate myself and Aeric.

That image was enough to bring me back down to earth, and I got myself under control as I made my way back toward where I’d been sitting with my cousin.Aeric, I reminded myself firmly.Notto the sexy mechanic I’d noticed earlier.

He probably wouldn’t even still be there.

Most of the others had drifted off to mingle or dance, save for Emmett and a couple members of his pit crew.

And damn it, Mr. Delicious, the sexy, sexy mechanic.

For a second, I saw only him, despite the throng of people still gathered there, like acolytes paying homage to their perceived god. I ignored it, having seen it all before, but I also forced myself to ignore Mr. D. as I circled around the seating area and settled in one of the few vacant areas. My seat by Aeric had been taken, which I’d expected, but that was fine. I liked observing, and the vantage point from here made for a better view.

“Miss Stacia.”

I recognized the voice, even over the dull roar of music and laughter.

Blanche Pietro, the tall, athletic blonde who’d handled Aeric’s security team for years, stood just a foot away, smiling at me.

“Hi, Blanche.”

“You don’t need to stand here,” she said, her English beautifully accented with both Italian and French. Her mother had been born in Paris, but her father had been with theServizio per le Informazioni e la Sicurezza Democratica, the Intelligence and Democratic Security Service, Italy’s primary intelligence agency of the time. He’d been killed in the line of duty when she was younger.

I’d been around her enough to know that smile she gave me was more open than it was with most. I could also tell that she was miffed that I was standing there instead of relaxing with my cousin.

“I’m fine, Blanche.”

She shook her head and gestured to me. “You wait right here, Miss Stacia.”

I started to argue, but she had already turned away, moving over to the stretch of couch where several people from Emmett’s pit crew still sat.

---