“Please, sweet Elle. Please don’t tell me I just have an overactive imagination.”
“Why not?” she asked the idiot.
“Because then I would be imagining this perfect angel in front of me and I don’t want this to be a dream. Are you just a hallucination, sweet Elle?”
Again, that laugh fled her lips. My headache returned. I stormed down the last step and toward the hallway, with no idea of what I was about to do or why.
And then I saw her.
She stood there, a blaze of white light in the darkness. Strips of colorless fabric wrapped around that slender body and hugged each curve and bend of soft flesh. It was a strapless gown, just smooth skin across slim shoulders and the swell of cleavage that made me lick my lips. The dress’s fabric shined bright, but seemed dull in comparison to her as she flashed the unworthy prick a captivating smile. Diamonds hung from her ears. A strawberry color stained those full lips. That beautiful hair sat in a complicated up-do of some sorts, with little braids and curls, adorned with tiny white feathers. I had no idea how she managed to get all those silky strands in an elegant order, but I yearned to undo each braid and tug loose every curl.
The foolish guy leaned on the wall in front of her. He made huge gestures as he talked. His words were clutter, once I focused on her. She giggled and the tops of her breasts jiggled. It was all too much for me. I groaned like a madman and garnered both of their attention.
“Who’s over there?” The guy looked my way.
I wondered how I appeared, standing in the hallway with closed fists and my teeth digging into my bottom lip.
“Alvarez?” She leaned her head to the side. “Is something wrong?”
I just stood there with lots of words on my tongue, but none appropriate for the moment.
“Can he talk?” The bastard chuckled. “Or maybe I’m not the only one fantasizing about fantastical creatures under the moonlight.”
If he says something else to her, I’ll escort him out of here and it won’t be a gentlemanly gesture.
This time Elle didn’t respond with amusement. She handed him her glass of wine and strolled my way. “Alvarez?”
That orange blossom perfume hit me as she approached. The lit candles in my room did their best to imitate her scent, but had failed. Her actual fragrance was intoxicating. I couldn’t get enough and wondered how her skin would taste with one lick. Would it be sweet as the juice from ripe oranges?
“Is everything okay?” Elle asked.
“Yes.”
A foot rested between us, and all I longed to do was close the distance and touch her skin.
This is madness.
“Are you really sure everything is okay?” she whispered.
“Yes.” I licked my lips. She parted her mouth, and had to know what was on my mind. With the hunger pounding in my groin, there was no way I was doing a good job of hiding it. Too much occurred today. Too many damn mysteries and problems, unexpected conflicts and disrupted needs. I hadn’t had time to truly sit and think about the dead girl, Elle’s position as Hex’s model, this new collection he was hiding, or even Dayanara’s attempted suicide. I’d rushed through each wound and problem, slapping a quick fix bandage on it without every truly cooling down.
Now, I stood in front of her, unraveling right before her eyes, without any possibility of discovering the end of my rope to put me back together again. I drowned in so many sensations. Yet one feeling sang louder than all the others.
Desire.
Dear god, I should have called Madam Miriam for those girls. This night won’t end well if Elle’s not in my arms.
“Something’s wrong.” She moved closer to me and kept her voice down. “You’re not acting like you were last night.”
Interesting.
“How did I act before?” I quirked my eyebrows.
She hesitated for a second and then simply replied, “Like a man in control.”
“Hey, buddy.” The guy rubbed his hands and sauntered over to us. “Get your own magic dream goddess. This one’s taken.”
Tension thickened in the silence. I think I was supposed to laugh at his failed attempt of a joke. Instead, I glared at him like a madman.
Elle, being the nice person she was, plastered on a strained smile. “Edward, I should talk to Alvarez about something. Is it okay if I talk with you later?”
He glanced at me, got the silent threat that I pushed out to him, and edged back. “Sure. After I get a drink, I’ll be outside by the dance floor, hoping to get a dance with you.”
You won’t be dancing with her tonight.
She watched him walk off and then faced me. “Has there been another dead girl?”
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“There has to be. You’re acting strange.”
“You’ve only known me for two days. How can you be so sure?”