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“Okay, let’s dance.” I returned to the dance floor with him, and Hayden proved to be a man of his word. He matched his movements to mine, and after a few songs, the bad memories disappeared from my mind. We both smiled and danced to song after song. Hayden also pushed back other hands that brush my hips and ass. Sheesh.
He leaned over to speak in my ear. “See? It wasn’t just me.”
I grinned. “Okay.”
Then a slower song came on. Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin, “Je t’aime Mon Non Plus”.
I stopped and Hayden raised a brow. My head turned, and I peered over the dance floor. Dance with Xander? He was all over Wyatt. Of course. I blew out my breath.
“We can waltz?” Hayden held up his hands in a formal gesture.
My hands trembled as he lifted them, placing one on his waist. We swayed in slow motion. His large hands were warm and gentle in mine. My body danced with the beat of the song, but Paul took up every corner of my mind. How we danced in Rome that first night. He looked at me like he could hold me forever as fireworks filled the sky. He was passionate. He couldn’t make it to the vineyard without pleasuring me. Her sensual sighs in the song filled my ears, and I shivered. The sound so much like my own when Paul touched me. When he fucks me. Just listening made his absence even more profound, and pain spread under my ribs, blocking my throat.
Hayden stopped moving, slipped his hand under my chin and lifted.
“Paul Crane is a fool to leave you alone in Paris.”
I blinked up at him. His gaze was hard on me, and it was even harder to look away. He inhaled sharply. His tongue tracing the seam of his lips, so clear in the passing strobe light. My pulse sped up, and a shiver went down my spine.
What am I doing?
Bang. A booming noise sounded like something had exploded and we stopped dancing. It was followed by a rapid ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Hayden’s eyes widened, and he looked up.
It was the ceiling sprinklers. It was also too late to run. Whoosh. Water poured down like a torrent of rain.
I held up my hands to cover my head. “Oh, my God.”
Hayden laughed.
Security came out, ordering everyone to the exits.
“Merci beaucoup. Au revoir, Hayden.” I turned away and rushed over to Xander and Wyatt, who were following the crowd out the exit doors to the street. I stared down at myself. Soaked.
Hayden appeared behind us. His stare was bold as it slid down my minidress. It clung to my body in the light of the streetlamps. And it dawned on me that it showed off too much skin. I folded my arms, and he grinned. “Why don’t you all come to my place? It’s not far. You can dry off there.” A few other people came forward that we could see were with Hayden. One of them was the brunette female I’d seen on his vespa. Her expression I couldn’t read, but she didn’t appear angry. Maybe it’s no big deal for your boyfriend to dance with another female? He spoke rapidly in French to them while I went over to Xander and nudged my head signally a private convo. He stepped away with me.
“Ben can pick us up and drop off Wyatt—”
“Or Ben can drive us to Hayden’s. I’m not ready to end the evening.” Xander angled his head toward Wyatt. “Please, Nadia. It’s impromptu fun; we can’t miss out.”
Xander wanted the adventure and was on vacation. I couldn’t say no, especially when I saw the chemistry between him and Wyatt. Even if Hayden makes me uncomfortable, at least I won’t be alone with him. And his girlfriend will probably be there. “Fine. We’ll go.”
Hayden’s place was a renovated warehouse. It reminded me of a museum, with large contemporary sculptures and abstract expressionist paintings held by chains attached to concrete walls. Even the furniture looked too artsy to sit on. He gave us towels, Foix Du Toi T-shirts, leggings, and even new socks to put on while our clothes dried.
Xander, Wyatt, and I returned to the living room, where Hayden was propped on a chair that resembled a throne. He had changed into a V-neck T-shirt that was low enough to show off a well-defined chest, and his leather pants appeared poured on. I glanced at Xander, and I could see the “hot damn” look on his face and had to bite my lip not to laugh.
“Are you hungry?” Hayden asked and stood, strolling with a flick of his wrist for us to follow as he led us into a steel and stone kitchen fit for a restaurant with huge workstations and a walk-in freezer. His entourage seemed used to being there, as if they lived with him. They opened cabinets and took out plates, uncorked bottles of wine, and even took out platters of food. Music came on, and so did the television somewhere in the home.
“I always have after-parties,” Hayden explained after seeing my and Xander’s confused stares at all the trays of food. “You all should relax. Wyatt, you’ve been here before. Show Xander around?”
“I’d love to.” Wyatt grinned at Xander. “Merci, Hayden.”
Xander gave me weighted eye contact paired with a smirk smile. That was the look he had often used when he planned to make out—then left me with Hayden. Great.
“So, it’s me and you, Nadia. Come, let me give you a tour.”
I shifted on my feet and picked up a carrot. “I’m fine here, thanks.”
