“Oh, I’m not w
orried about me,” I answered flippantly, sweeping my hair up off my shoulders as his eyes followed every move. “I grew up across the bridge, son.”
There was a pause in his step, as his eyes closed with a smile.
“Please,” he savored the moment, “please tell me you didn’t just call me ‘son.’”
I flushed.
“I’ve had a lot of champagne...”
“Sure—blame it on the champagne.”
The tie joined the jacket in the corner. My purse was placed safely on top.
“So how does this work?” Nick asked, working his way down the buttons on his collared shirt. A second later, it was on the floor as well, leaving nothing but a thin tank below. “I just beat you into submission? Don’t stop until you beg for mercy?”
Again, I flushed. But this time, a shiver of excitement ran up my spine.
“Oh Mr. Hunter, I’m afraid you’ve got that the wrong way around.” I twirled my finger teasingly in the air. “You see, not only do I have no intention whatsoever of backing down, but I fully expect that before we’re through—you’ll be the one on your knees, not me.”
Nick’s eyes glittered as he flashed a smile worthy of the devil himself.
“Abby—I never beg.”
I wet my lips, and braced for what was coming.
“We’ll see.”
If only I had known what I was getting into...
There was a swish of air. A vibration through the floor. A lock of hair blew into my eyes.
...and then I was on my back.
“What the fuck?!”
I gasped aloud, staring around in complete disorientation. I hadn’t landed hard, but I’d landed suddenly. He had done it in a gentle way, catching me as he laid me down. Coming down with a little shriek, as the floor flew out from under my feet.
Before I could begin to recover myself, a grinning silhouette floated into my line of vision, and I blinked up in wonder.
“How did...?” I caught my breath, and tried again. “How did you do that?”
I hadn’t heard him move. I hadn’t even seen him move. Honestly—I had no earthly idea how anyone could possibly move so fast! What did they teach those boys out at Oxford?!
Or maybe it wasn’t Oxford after all...
My head started spinning with thoughts of the supernatural, but Nick merely gazed down at me with a fond smile. His hand had shot out from nowhere, catching my head just inches from the ground, and while I was dazed to the point of dreaming, he was hardly out of breath.
He ignored my question, and countered it with another.
“You had enough yet?”
A preemptive smirk had settled on the corners of his mouth—just waiting for the victory he was sure would come. The fingers cradling my head tightened, and from the rigid set to his chest, I could have sworn the man was holding in laughter.
But that victory dance might have to wait.
Had I had enough...?