Page 123 of Mercenary
I sigh. “Ask Diego.”
“This reminded me of you when I bought it.” She waltzes over to me and sprays my wrist with a sweet floral perfume. “I did ask Diego.”
“Let me guess. He said, ‘Estás pero si bien pendejo.’”
Luciana bursts into laughter. “Hard to tell what’s funnier, your poor Spanish accent or you memorizing one of his favorite curses. For the record, you’re not a fucking idiot.” She grows quiet, then adds, “The man you’ve fallen in love with, this . . . Declan . . .” She circles her hand around in the air, probably simulating what my life’s been like since I fell in love with this . . . Declan . . . “Are you sure? Because Diego says this man’s the most dangerous, least loving person he’s ever met. And you have no idea what life was like for us in the Loreto . . .”
“I’m sure.” He’ll come back for me.
Moving on with my life means I can’t dwell on things I can’t control. Worrying about Kylie, wondering where Declan’s gone, I just have to leave it all in the hands of fate. Find balance and peace within. Get my Dalai Lama groove going. When Declan’s ready, he’ll be back. “What about you?” I change the subject. “Are you ever going to tell me about him?”
Her spine stiffens, just the slightest bit. “There is no him.”
“Whatever you say.” I let her off the hook. “You ready?”
“Ready. Willing. And able.” She plucks something out of her purse and slides it into her bra.
I roll my eyes. “Seriously. A condom?”
“It’s my New Year’s resolution. No more dwelling on what could have been. Why not start tonight and bring in the new year with a bang? It shouldn’t be too hard to do. Have you seen these hot Italian men?”
I don’t respond. Because the man I have eyes for is nowhere to be found. And besides, with his blond hair and jade-colored eyes, Declan’s the polar opposite of these sexy, dark-haired Italians.
Polar opposite in demeanor, as well.
With a sigh, I follow her downstairs to the ballroom and to the New Year’s party already in full swing.
Four drinks later, I’m feeling wonderful. We’re on the dance floor, grinding and bumping and getting downright ridiculous. Doing what I should have been doing back at school in California. Living life. How would Hayden react if I wrote him a thank-you note for the ticket? He remembered, too. Maybe a trip to Rome was his form of an apology. Forgive and forget, right?
No. No way. With a man like him, it’s just forget. He must have some kind of ulterior motive. My gaze shifts to Luciana, and then onto the handsome man dancing behind her.
“I need to use the restroom,” Luciana yells in my ear.
“God bless Italy,” I holler back, and give her an approving wink.
She heads off, her handsome friend hot on her heels. Maybe, just maybe, this Italian will be the one to make her happy.
Not two seconds later, I feel someone caress my arm. No, it’s not the prosecco creating invisible moves on me. The faint blond hairs on my arm stand at attention at his touch.
A whisper of a caress.
Then I’m spun around, coming face to face, body to body with . . . Oh. My. God.
Everyone is dancing. A few people are singing a silly Italian love song. And then there’s Declan.
Here.
On the dance floor.
Looking stiff and uncomfortable and so freaking beautiful, I miss a step.
His hand shoots out to steady me.
“You’re back.”
“Been waiting for you to return for a fifth glass of bubbly but . . . I can’t wait any fucking longer.”
“How did you find me?”
