18
The night of the bachelor auction finally arrived. I’d promised Luka I would keep my jealousy in check, and I was doing my best, but the turnout was huge and impossibly glamorous. It was a small event compared to what the gala would be like, but it could have been a ball all on its own. The finest of Champagne and sparkling cider flowed freely as everyone mingled, showing off their party dresses, shoes and jewelry, undoubtedly all new, purchased just for this occasion.
Wealth was on full display tonight. I couldn’t help but feel lesser-than in my simple black cocktail dress and scuffed black pumps.
I stood backstage, looking through the curtain at the crowd, keeping myself in the shadows. This was making me feel like the epitome of an outsider. Despite everyone’s prior reassurance, I couldn’t help reflect on the amount of money on display. I would never be able to measure up.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. I turned and found myself face to face with a bow tie and strong, broad shoulders. My cheeks flushed.
“Good evening, Princess,” Luka said playfully, wearing that charming smile of his.
“Prince Luka,” I replied. I couldn’t echo his playful tone. He did look every inch the Prince Charming.
I took a step back, looking him over from head to toe. He was wearing a dark red velvet tuxedo jacket with black lapels, a bright red pocket square, and a simple white shirt and black bow tie with slacks. It was all tailor made and accentuated his lean waist running up to his wide shoulders. My flush ran from my cheeks, down my chest and settled in my belly. There was just something about a handsome man in a suit.
“Enjoying the sight?” he teased.
Luka was no doubt well aware what he was doing to me.
“You look like you just walked out of the pages of a spy novel,” I said.
“Is that approval of my attire or no?”
“You know exactly how good you look to me right now.”
“Do I?” he asked with that wicked glint in his eyes, bringing his hand up to my face.
I stopped him in midair, though I did hold his hand for a second longer than I should have.
“Not here,” I said. “I want you, but…”
“I understand,” Luka said.
I searched his eyes, looking for hurt feelings or anger, but there was none to be found. I was safe with him. I was safe with all three of them.
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“See for yourself.” He gestured with his hand to Jaeson as he rounded the corner. “I found these troublemakers behind the building, behaving like the hooligans that they are.”
“Who are you calling a hooligan?” Jaeson accentuated his words with a sly half-grin, staring me down like a predator. His sleeves were, of course, rolled up neatly. He wore a white tuxedo shirt underneath a slate black vest and black slacks. His tie was silvery, tucked beneath his vest, with very fine black patterning winding all over it.
I could look at him all day, and found myself wishing for those strong hands to take me in any way he chose.
“I see you still can’t stand to button your sleeves,” I noted.
“When you got a look that works, you stick with it,” he smirked.
“Don’t know why the hell you’d stick to a look like this,” Riot muttered darkly. I could hear him but didn’t see him.
“It’s not that bad,” Jaeson said.
“You looked quite presentable, last I saw,” Luka chimed in.
“Riot?” I asked, bewildered at his hesitation to come out. Truth be told, I was a little bewildered he was here at all, participating in anything related to the gala. I stepped forward, approaching the curtain he was hiding behind.
And there he was. Same sharp jaw, same tousled hair, but the rest of him…
My insides flipped over on themselves.
