Page 183 of Toxic Temptation
“I don’t have friends here. Just Charity.”
“Right. Charity.” His fingers find a strand of my hair, brushing against my bare shoulder. “Remind me to thank her for making you choose this dress.”
I frown. “How do you know I didn’t pick it myself?”
“Because you hate being the center of attention, and this dress was designed to stop traffic.”
The accuracy of his observation unsettles me. “How do you always read me so easily? It’s kind of annoying.”
“You’re my girlfriend.” His thumb glides along my collarbone. “It’s my job to know you.”
The wordgirlfriendhits differently than it used to. I can’t tell if he means our fake relationship or the real thing that’s sprung up in the cracks.
“There’s Jeremy.” I spot him near the silent auction table, sporting what looks like a new Rolex. “The bastard.”
The moment Jeremy sees me, the smile disappears from his face. He nods awkwardly, then turns to force more conversation with the woman beside him.
“You really did a number on him,” I remark. “He looks like he’s about to shit his pants every time he makes eye contact with us.”
Kovan’s smile has a predatory edge. “It’s what I do best.” The smile vanishes as his gaze shifts. “Who’s the guy behind him?”
“Michael. He works in pediatrics with me.”
“If he keeps staring at you like that, he’s going to need reconstructive surgery.”
“Kovan.”
“I’m serious. I’ll give themudakthree seconds to look somewhere else, or I’m walking over there.”
I cup his face, forcing his attention back to me. “Look at me instead.”
His expression softens as he lets me turn his face toward mine. Slowly, the possessiveness goes out of him. “Hard to look anywhere else when you’re this beautiful,” he murmurs.
My heart clenches inside my rib cage. The need that’s been building for days is getting closer and closer to a breaking point. God only knows what’ll happen when we get there.
“Would you dance with me?” I ask.
He stands immediately, offering his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”
The dance floor opens up around us as Kovan pulls me against his chest. His hand settles low on my back, possessive and warm.
“Everyone’s watching,” I notice.
“They’re watchingyou.” His breath tickles my ear. “Can’t blame them.”
“You’re not exactly invisible yourself, Mister.”
He spins me out, then draws me back against him. For a moment, the crowded ballroom fades. It’s just us, moving together like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
The memory of his kiss earlier burns on my lips. Soft at first, then deeper, more desperate. A kiss with no audience, no performance required. Just for him. For me. For us.
That’s what gives me courage.
“You kissed me before we left tonight,” I remind him.
“I did.” His eyes shimmer with amusement.
“No one was watching.”
