Shite.
She doesn't smile. Doesn't wave. Just holds my gaze for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
I'm across the room, half-hidden in shadow, dressed in black like every other security guard here.
She shouldn't have been able to pick me out.
But she did.
Her mouth curves—that same curve from last night, the one that says she knows exactly what effect she's having—and she starts walking toward me.
No. No, no, no.
I straighten, keeping my expression blank, my posture professional.
She can't come over here, can't acknowledge me.
That's not how this works.
She stops a meter away, close enough that I can smell her perfume.
Something floral and warm.
Something that makes me want to bury my face in her neck and breathe.
"You're supposed to be invisible," she says quietly, not looking at me. To anyone watching, she's studying the artwork on the wall.
"Iaminvisible."
"Not to me."
Jaysus.
"Go back to your guests, Miss Dalla."
"Miss Dalla?" Her lips twitch. "That's very formal for someone who pinned me with a look last night like he wanted to?—"
"Don't."
The word comes out rougher than I intend.
She turns her head slightly, just enough for me to see her eyes.
They're sparkling. The little minx isenjoyingthis.
"Don'twhat?"
"Don't play games with me. You don't know what you're starting."
"Maybe I want to find out."
My jaw clenches so hard I'm surprised I don't crack a tooth.
She's testing me.
Pushing.
Seeing how far she can go before I break.
