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“Didn’t expect you to show up,” the man half yells as he comes toward us, slapping Dimitri on the arm and causing his drink to slosh over the rim of his glass.
“Yes, well, duty calls.”
“Didn’t think you’d show your face, to be honest.”
Dimitri doesn’t respond to that, but his jaw tightens as he stares down at the man.
“And you’ve brought this ravishing young lady with you,” Mustache continues, his gaze dropping to my chest in a way that’s anything but subtle.
“Yes,” Dimitri rumbles, shifting sideways to block me from the man’s lecherous gaze. “She’s with me.”
A jolt of heat shoots through me at those words, though I’m sure he only said them to send the creep on his way.
It works. I don’t see what happens next, but two seconds later, Mustache turns and scampers away, his face red and splotchy.
“Come on,” Dimitri growls, shifting his grip back to my waist and turning me toward the main ballroom. Guests are beginning to trickle in, but they all give us a wide berth as Dimitri guides me through the doors.
The smell of expensive perfume tickles my nostrils as we enter the ballroom. Round tables draped in white linen take up nearly half of the room; the other is dedicated to a dance floor, where a five-piece orchestra is playing. Sparkling crystal chandeliers adorn the ceiling, and servers in white uniforms circulate with trays of champagne.
I expect Dimitri to head for one of the tables in the corner, but instead he pulls me onto the dance floor. My heart gives a fantastic leap when he pivots me to face him and takes my hand, tugging me gently closer.
Holy shit.
Suddenly, Dimitri is much too close —those extraordinary amber eyes boring into mine. I could count every one of his inky black lashes. Trace the decadent line of his upper lip.
That intoxicating scent of him fills my nostrils, and the thrum of power coming off his strong body seems to create its own little bubble that insulates us from the crowd. I’m still vaguely aware that people are staring, but it’s no longer making my skin itch.
“I didn’t know you danced,” I say, partly to ease the tension in my own chest as his other hand settles along the curve of my waist.
Our height difference means I have to tilt my head back to see his expression, when I really want to lean in and rest my cheek against his chest.
A wry smile twists that tantalizing mouth, and he bends forward so that his lips are mere inches from my ear. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
My insides clash together at our sudden proximity, and I feel a rush of heat between my thighs. My skin tingles everywhere we’re touching, and there’s a fire roaring in my belly that’s threatening to engulf me completely.
I’m vaguely aware of the sweetness of the music as Dimitri leads me around the dance floor. His steps aren’t choreographed like he’s had lessons, but he moves with a fluid ease and confidence that draws every set of eyes in the room.
Soon the space between us has vanished, and I’m pressed against his broad chest. Dimitri’s hand is splayed possessively along the curve of my back. My heartbeat is an embarrassing thud against his ribs, and my panties are completely soaked.
When his fingers slip beneath the silk that just barely covers my ass, I suck in a strangled breath and force myself to meet his gaze.
Two chips of amber stare down at me, and I know I’m not imagining the heat in his eyes. Dimitri’s lips part, and he draws in a sharp breath —the motion causing the fabric of my dress to rake against my hardened nipples with excruciating friction.
By now more guests have filled the ballroom, and I notice Dimitri has steered us to the very edge of the room. We’re somewhat concealed by the other dancers, and my body surges with anticipation.
Moved by insanity, I allow my hand to slip from his shoulder and trail down the broad expanse of his chest. I tuck a finger between the folds of his shirt, reveling in the feeling of hot naked skin and the prick of hair.
It’s a tiny thing, but the fantasy that flashes through me is overwhelming and violent. I imagine what it would be like to rip his shirt open, sending buttons scattering all over the floor.
What would it feel like to run my hands all over the hard planes of his incredible body? To take my time exploring every single inch of him with my fingers, lips, and tongue . . .
As if he can see the thoughts forming in my filthy mind, Dimitri covers my splayed hand with his own and takes my fingers gently in his. “Come. There’s something I want to show you.”
My heart skips a beat as he leads me out of the ballroom, through the doors, and out into the crisp night air. His grip on my hand tightens as we descend a brick staircase that unfolds into the enormous courtyard below, which is illuminated by twinkling lights in every shrub and tree. I can still hear the music drifting from the main ballroom, but the courtyard is deserted.
Something soft and warm envelops me, and I look up as Dimitri arranges his jacket over my bare shoulders.
It’s such an unexpectedly sweet gesture that my throat burns with emotion. “It’s nice out here.”
