Page 60 of Seeking Vengeance

I jostle with the impact more than he does, and blink in shock as she storms back down where she came from. I don’t realize I’m panting until she disappears into the dancing crowd.

All the while, Matthew remains unfazed, pivoting back to grasp the railing like nothing happened.

I’m more stunned than he is, and I don’t know whether I should leave or stay. The flighty flutter of my heart has no intention of letting me escape without answers. The brutal twist of my stomach makes me question if I want to learn the truth.

I’d thought of him as a gentleman. A sly, devious gentleman, but a gentleman all the same.

Now I’m not so sure.

And still, I crave.

Even after witnessing that drama, I can’t stop wanting him. Can’t stop making excuses for what just happened.

The woman obviously couldn’t take no for an answer.

His body language had been clear. Hell, I could see his lack of interest and I’m ten yards away.

What unsettles me, though, is the difficulty in aligning this severely frosty man with the flirting and smoothness of the one I’m accustomed to. This side of Matthew doesn’t fit the person I’ve been fantasizing about.

This guy is different.

I’m about to turn on my heel to rethink my options at the hotel when someone else climbs the stairs. A hulk of a man this time—Bishop.

The temperamental offsider leans in to say something to his friend and this time, there’s an immediate reaction.

Matthew stiffens, his face pinching as his attention glides in a straight line right to where I stand. Those eyes take me in, holding me immobile while his harshness evaporates with a sly grin.

Goddamn. Gorgeous.

I swallow over the desert claiming my throat and curse my fluttering pulse.

He maneuvers around Bishop and descends the stairs to the ground floor. I can’t see his face as he parts the dancing crowd like a warrior destined to decimate.

His eyes don’t meet mine again until he’s a breath from the few steps in front of me, his confident stride jumping them in one fell swoop to stop before me.

There are no words. No niceties.

He wraps a hand around my neck and hauls me in to steal my mouth with his.

I gasp against his lips. My doubts vanish. Self-control disappears.

I’m breathless, my mind spinning as he awakens my body with his kiss. Then, just as fast, he pulls away and instructs me to follow him.

He grabs my hand, leading me back to where he came from. Through the crowd, up the metal stairs, to the glass-encased room.

My palm is at home in his. The tight hold. The possession consuming.

He escorts me inside the soundproof area, the noise still loud but from chatting people this time, and takes me to the bar, the counter illuminated by a dark blue glow. Then he kisses me again, one hand clutching mine, the other tangling in the hair at my nape.

I lose myself in him. The concerns disappear, too.

Despite the crowd around us, it’s only me and him. The two of us in our own little world.

“This is a nice surprise,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Not as much of a surprise as I wanted.” I keep my eyes closed, our noses touching. “Did Bishop see me arrive?”

“You’re hard to miss. Especially in that phenomenal dress. How the hell do you keep knocking me off my feet?”

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