"Karina," he begins, my name a rough caress in his accented voice.
I can't breathe.Can't think.
Can only watch as he closes the distance between us with deliberate slowness, giving me every opportunity to retreat.
I don't.
His hand comes up to brush my cheek, a whisper of contact that sends electricity cascading through me.His eyes, visible through the mask, darken to forest green.
"This is a terrible idea," I whisper.
"Catastrophic," he agrees, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
"We should quit while we’re ahead.”
"Absolutely."
Neither of us moves away.
The car slows suddenly, jostling us apart as it pulls up to the venue—the Seattle Art Museum transformed for the evening into a glittering wonderland of lights and music.
"We've arrived," the driver announces unnecessarily.
Callum sits back, his expression shifting from heat to careful neutrality."Ready?"
No.Not remotely.
"Born ready," I lie, adjusting my mask.
He offers his hand to help me from the car.The simple touch—warm, strong fingers curling around mine—sends another jolt through me.
This evening suddenly feels much more dangerous than I'd anticipated.
Because while I can handle nosy billionaires, corporate intrigue, and even Duncan MacTavish...
I'm increasingly uncertain I can handle Callum Abernathy and whatever is igniting between us.
12
ONCE MORE WITH FEELING
CALLUM
The Seattle Art Museum gleams with expectant elegance against the July night sky as I escort Karina through its towering glass doors.
Inside, the transformed Great Hall dazzles with suspended constellations of fairy lights that mirror the summer stars outside.
Art installations have been temporarily rearranged to accommodate nearly three hundred of Seattle's wealthiest residents.
All masked.All watching.
And most, I note with weary resignation, are watching me.
"Your fan club is in attendance," Karina murmurs, her arm linked through mine as we navigate the entrance.
"They're looking at you," I counter, acutely aware of how the sapphire silk of her dress catches the light with each step.
"They're wondering if I'm the next victim of the Kilted Casanova.”She smirks."Even though you've disappointingly shown up sans kilt."
