Page 23 of Dangerous Men
11
SYDNEY
I am a seductress.I am a siren, born of desire and sin.
I am sex incarnate.
At least, that’s how I feel tonight. In this dress, with my makeup done and my hair perfectly styled, I feel beautiful. Really, trulybeautiful.
But even more, I feel powerful.
Sure, my dress is a little low-cut, showing off a bit more cleavage than I would usually flaunt. And, yes, the slit up the side runs so high it practically hits the top of my thigh. But that just adds to how sexy I feel tonight. The way the midnight blue fabric sparkles like stars, slowly morphing into a shining silver hem, makes this dress a work of art. It’s the most beautiful piece of clothing I’ve ever owned.
I never want to take it off. I might spend the rest of my life in this dress, shopping in it, doing chores in it, sleeping in it, the works.
Even food tastes better when you’re dressed like this. Or maybe that’s just a testament to the incredible catering theyhired for the Sterling Children’s Foundation Annual Charity Banquet.
As they clear our plates away at the end of an outstanding meal, I’m pleasantly full, and only half listening to the keynote speaker as he winds down.
“And of course, none of this would be possible without the wonderful work of our biggest benefactor, Mr. Mason Sterling. Everyone, please give him a round of applause.”
Someone stands as we all clap, but our cheaper-ticket table is so far from the stage I can barely make out anything other than dark skin and hair. Plus, I’m admittedly a little distracted.
Jade hasn’t yet found a sugar momma to take her to Fiji, sadly. But she has attracted the attention of one of the wait staff.
“You should go talk to her,” I whisper, nudging Jade as I say it.
“And leave you here all alone? Hardly.” Jade huffs, leaning her elbow on the table. Her purple hair has faded to a soft lavender, and it’s a perfect color match to the full-length satin dress she chose to wear. Despite her objections, her eyes flick to the far wall as she says it, to where the cute blonde keeps glancing at her and blushing.
“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes. The speaker finishes detailing exactly how much money this event has raised for underprivileged children in Fortune City, and we all clap politely again. “Just go talk to her, Jade. I’ll be fine. I want to check out the orchestra and the ballroom, anyway. Maybe grab a drink. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find someone tocanoodlewith, too.”
I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and Jade smirks. A flurry of movement around the room tells me the speeches must have finally finished. The people around us have come to their feet and are filtering out of the elegant dining room, toward the live music and the ballroom. I nudge Jade again.
“Nope.” Jade scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “Not going to happen. I dragged you here. I’m sure as hell not abandoning you now.”
“Jade, it’s fine! Really. Go and talk to her.” This time, we both glance over, catching the blonde watching us. She tucks her hair nervously behind her ear and looks away.
I can tell she’s wavering by the way Jade’s foot taps incessantly against the table leg. Jade can’t resist a pretty face for long.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I announce, pushing my chair back and standing. “And maybe spend some time in the garden until some lonely old millionaire takes pity on me and asks me to dance. Andyouare going to talk to her.”
Jade throws her hands up in surrender.
“Fine!” she says. “But I’m coming to find you in thirty minutes, okay? So don’t let anyone sweep you off to their yacht before then.”
“I make absolutely no promises,” I say, running my hands over the fabric of my dress, luxuriating in the feel under my touch. I glide away from the table, but not before shooting her a wink. “Love you,” I sing, grinning over my shoulder as I navigate my way through the tables.
“To the moon and back!” Jade calls after me, loud enough to turn a few heads.
By the time I make my way out of the dining room and into the ballroom—stopping along the way to marvel at how beautiful and perfectly decorated everything is—I’m one of the last people out of the dining area, and the line to the bar is atrociously long. It stretches along the far wall, easily fifty people deep.
Fine. My drink can wait a little. To the garden, it is!
Already several couples have taken to the massive dance floor, waltzing close to one another, swaying to therhythm of the live orchestra. I give the dancers plenty of space, keeping to the sides of the room as I make my way toward the open doors that lead to the garden.
Maybe my little joke about someone asking me to dance wasn’t that unrealistic after all. I notice a few heads turning my way as I walk. Just for fun, I swing my hips a little more than necessary, loving the feeling of my dress’s high slit and the way the fabric moves around my legs.
I am sex. I am beauty. I am?—
