"Especially me," I said, my thumb brushing her waist. "Though I'd rather hide you so no one else could see."
"Jealous?" she teased.
"Never stopped," I admitted. "Especially knowing there'll be so many men staring tonight."
She rose on her toes and left a soft kiss on my lips. "Then control yourself, Igor. I need a respectable date tonight, not a jealous lunatic scaring off clients."
"I'll try," I said. We both knew it was a joke.
At seven, I stood by the suite window, adjusting my cuff links. Tuscany outside had gone gold at dusk, the valley glowing orange.
"Igor, can you zip me up?" Elena's voice came from the bedroom.
I turned. Damn. My breath stalled.
She stood in the doorway in a deep blue gown — a color between midnight and ocean, shifting with the light. It was strapless, cut to show her collarbones and shoulders. The front sculpted her curves tastefully; the waist cinched tight, and the skirt fell from the hips, tapering around the ankles to reveal silver-strapped heels. Her hair was in an elegant updo, exposing that long neck.
"How's it?" she asked, spinning; the skirt swayed.
"It's one of the main pieces from the new line," she added. "I hesitated, but Anna said I had to wear it so guests could see the effect."
I moved closer. The dress's back was cut away, leaving a broad, smooth expanse of skin. My eyes wouldn't leave it.
"Perfect," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. "You look…criminal."
She laughed, unaware of the hunger in my eyes.
"I want to kidnap you." I slid behind her, fingers trailing along the bare skin of her back. "Take you back to the room. Keep you from that damn party."
"Igor." Her voice trembled an inch. "Don't. We'll be late."
"Then let me zip you up." I found the hidden zipper and began to pull it, deliberately slow, my fingertips brushing her spine. She shivered.
"You're doing iton purpose."
"Yeah," I admitted, kissing the spot where her shoulder met her neck. "Because I like watching you tremble for me."
When the zipper reached the top, I turned her to face me. My thumb stroked her flushed cheek. "A lot of men will be staring at you tonight, Elena. Promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Don't leave my sight," I said low. "If anyone tries to lay a hand on you, I don't know if I can hold back."
She rolled her eyes. "This is a business dinner, not a nightclub."
"Businessmen are worse," I said. "Polished masks, rotten insides."
"Is that you?" she shot back.
"I never pretended." I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "I'll tell you straight — I want you."
Her face flushed. "We're late."
I glanced at the clock. 7:30. "Alright." I let her go and grabbed my coat. "Come on, my queen."
The ride to the Platinum Hotel took fifteen minutes. The ballroom glittered — crystal chandeliers, European elegance, art on the walls, flowers in the corners. Guests mingled, champagne and perfume mingling in the air.
Heads turned when we entered. Elena linked her arm in mine, posture straight, smile poised. She looked confident and flawless.
