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Off she went, diving through the throng and popping out at the ‘Finn cluster’ planted at the top of some stone steps leading to the vast lawn—a lush green blanket saturated with an array of iconic racing cars from past to present, as well as supercars, helicopters and yachts in a huge luxury showcase.
As if Finn sensed her behind him he reached round, grabbed for her hand, then pulled her into the fray and introduced her with practised ease and a pulse-thrumming smile. A smile she tried to emulate as he assaulted her senses, rubbing his thumb over the ball of her hand, making her bones liquefy and then leaning in until his dark scent fired heat through her veins.
‘You enjoying yourself?’
‘Yeah, I am. Surprise!’ she said, only to cringe at the quiver in her voice, musing that she might be a league too deep with this man who effortlessly consumed her. ‘Are you coming in for dinner? We’re being seated any minute.’
‘We?’
‘Jake is at the bar, ordering drinks. He’s waiting for me.’
Finn glanced towards that very spot, staring with an enigmatic hardness that turned pensive. Then he squeezed her hand until she flinched. What the—?
Jerkily he released her. ‘Sorry, beautiful.’
If she didn’t know better she would think he’d shocked himself.
‘Sure, I’ll follow. You go ahead,’ he said, with an austere jerk of his head and a dark note to his drawl that she couldn’t grasp.
As it was, they were halfway through their appetizers when he finally deigned to join the highly sophisticated mix, whipping out all the weapons in his loaded arsenal to schmooze his tardiness away.
And while every man and woman fell beneath his spell Serena stared at those tight shoulders, filling out his suave custom-made tux, and fought with disquiet. He appeared ruffled. As if he’d been thrusting his fingers through his hair. Or someone else had. Stop. Just stop. You’re being ridiculous.
Soon, she told herself. As soon as the first band came on he would come for her to dance. Although the anticipation was a killer. Especially when she could feel his eyes burning into her flesh when he thought she wasn’t looking.
What he failed to grasp was that her every sense was attuned to his high frequency. Every word from his lips dusted over her skin like the petals of the wild orchids that trailed from the crystal centrepiece, and every deep, sinful chuckle tightened the flesh between her legs. The waiting, waiting, slowly drove her insane, until at one point his gaze was so intense a tornado whipping through the room couldn’t have stopped her meeting it across the table.
Finn placed his palm on his chest, as if his heart ached, and, oh, her own thumped in response. But then he pulled his phone from the breast pocket and she realised it must have been on vibrate. Idiot.
Her stomach hit the velvet seat with a disheartened thump even as she tensed with the chill of suspense.
Much as he had on another few occasions, he stared at the screen, then glanced back up, his demeanour fierce, indecipherable, his jaw locked tight, something dark and portentous swirling in his eyes.
Guilt. Another woman. It had to be.
Throat thick, she had to swallow hard. ‘Aren’t you going to answer it?’
It was the same question she’d previously voiced, and for the first time she wanted him to say no. Not to spoil the moment. Their night.
Except this time he stood. ‘Yes. I’ve been waiting for a call. It’s...important.’
‘Is that right?’ She sounded snarky, but right now she couldn’t care.
One of the black-and-white-garbed waiters lowered a gold-trimmed plate in front of her and the sweet aroma of salmon and asparagus hit her stomach like battery acid even as she told herself she could be leaping to conclusions. But why act so guilty if it was innocent? Either way, she had no right to be upset, no claim on him whatsoever. Exactly. She was not furiously jealous. Absolutely not. That would mean she was far more emotionally involved with him than good sense allowed.
‘I’ll be back in a while.’
Mutely she nodded. Forty minutes later she was still calling herself fifty kinds of fool. He’d left. He must have. And while an orchestra of pain and hurt struck a beat inside— directed at herself for believing she had a shot with him—she refused to let him take her pride from her tonight.
The bolt of fortitude was like taking a match to gasoline, and fury hit her in an explosion of fire. Once again she’d set herself up for a fall. But she wasn’t going down. Not this time.
‘Serena? The band is striking up. Would you do me the honour?’
Glancing up to Jake’s handsome face, she felt her throat pulse, raw and scratchy. Was she seriously going to sit here all night like a fool, waiting for a man who might never come back? Was she really that desperate?
