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She arched a brow as I took a drink.

‘A man like you alone in a place like this? That’s a tragedy.’

‘I’m selective these days,’ I said. ‘Not looking to fill space just because it’s empty.’

She parsed my meaning, her eyes narrowing and her mouth quirking.

I had to give it to her; she wasn’t some empty-headed mannequin, given the keen glint in her gaze.

We spent the next forty minutes trading surface-level banter about past photo shoots in New York, mutual acquaintances in London, and the brutal hassle of international travel.

She was easy to talk to, witty and sharp, but I sensed her intent shifting with every passing minute.

Her glances grew longer, she leaned closer, and her touches on my arm became more frequent, making it clear she was available.

Damn.

She pulled a smartphone from her clutch and slid it across the marble.

‘Put your number in. We should hang out while we’re both here.’

A knot of tension twisted in my gut.

Nashami came with complications; she was a former colleague of Ana’s, and getting involved with her would be a headache.

Still, she was pleasant company, and her quick-witted chatter was charming.

Given I was lonely as fuck and, like any red-blooded man, yearning for female companionship, I typed my digits into her phone, then slid it back to her.

At some point, her entourage approached to tell us they were departing to hit another bar.

She waved goodbye to them.

‘I’m not leaving; Deacon is mesmerizing me.’

Her companions disappeared, and we kept chatting; in time, she impressed me with her knowledge of world events, politics, and even music.

An hour later, we stepped out onto the cool cobblestone alley outside the venue.

On the curb, Nashami turned toward me and closed the distance.

Her long fingers rested on the lapel of my jacket as she tilted her chin up, moving in for a kiss.

I caught her in a gentle hold and set her back, stepping away to put a full foot of space between us.

‘Can’t do it, Nashami.’

She paused at my hoarse growl, blinking in confusion under a street lamp.

‘Why? You’re divorced from Ana now, aren’t you?’

‘Doesn’t mean my heart’s free,’ I muttered, my voice thick.

Nashami studied my face for a long moment, her eyes softening as a slow smile touched her lips.

‘You’re different, Deacon Vega. I admire your loyalty and how unapologetic you are about it.’

‘That’s me, true to a fault.’