“Depends who you ask.” He takes the flute from my hand, lifts it to his own mouth, and drinks without breaking eye contact. “Information’s harmless until you use it.”
I swallow, suddenly aware of how close he’s standing. “So which kind are you giving me right now?”
“The dangerous kind.”
Since I’m not into stranger-danger, that should be enough to warn me away. To make me leave and go back to working. Yet I find myself leaning closer.
“Is that so?” I barely recognize my own voice with how husky it is. It comes out like a purr.
He sets the glass aside with quiet precision. “You’re not from here,” he says, like it’s a continuation of the same thought and not a complete conversation changer.
“And you are,” I counter.
“I am,” he confirms, tilting his head so his breath ghosts across my cheek. “Born and bred. In fact, I think I was conceived somewhere in this building.”
Laughter bursts from me. “Really? Did your parents take you here and give you all the gory details?”
“Nah, I’m just messing with you,” he grins. “If we’re being honest, I have no idea where my parents did the nasty. And since they’re not around to ask, I get to make my own truth.”
That’s… wow. I open and close my mouth several times. I mean, it’s not like I don’t appreciate a good spin of the truth. Hello, anyone in PR does. But it never occurred to me to make up fantastical stories about my parents’ sex life. Ew.
“Aaaanyway,” I say, dragging the word out. “As I was saying, the night’s still young.”
“And what do you want to do for the rest of the night?” His voice drops lower, rough at the edges.
“Something that won’t bore me,” I beam.
He smiles—a real one this time, not the predatory show of teeth from earlier. It transforms his face, making the danger in him something magnetic rather than alarming. “I’ve been called many things, Raven Carter. Boring has never been one of them.”
His hand rises, one finger tracing the line of my collarbone, feather-light. Heat follows his touch, my skin prickling with awareness. I don’t flinch, don’t step away. Instead, I arch slightly into the contact, a silent challenge.
“Paris teaches you to appreciate beauty in unexpected places,” I say, watching his eyes track the movement of my lips. “In chaos and the things most people are afraid to touch.” I have no idea what made me blurt that out.
His finger continues its path, up the column of my throat, pausing at the rapid flutter of my pulse. “Is that what I am to you? A curiosity? Something dangerous to touch?”
“I don’t know what you are yet,” I admit. The honesty surprises even me. “That’s part of the appeal.”
He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Come home with me. Let me show you exactly what I am.”
The invitation hangs between us, weighted with promise. The rational part of my brain catalogs the risks; a strange man with no last name. Obvious power that makes others nervous. But the part of me that likes living on the edge has already decided.
“Kiss me first,” I demand, placing a hand against his chest. His heart thunders under my palm. “I need to know if you know how to use your tongue before I go home with a stranger. Consider it an audition.” I tilt my chin up, the challenge explicit.
Something flashes across his face; amusement, respect, hunger. Without warning, he cups the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, and pulls me to him.
The kiss is nothing like I expected. His mouth claims mine with absolute certainty, like he’s taking something that already belongs to him. His tongue sweeps inside, skilled and demanding, tasting of expensive champagne and darker promises.
Heat explodes low in my belly, a molten pour of desire that makes me grip his lapels for support. He kisses like he’s memorizing me, like he’s both giving and taking, and the duality makes me dizzy.
“Did I pass?” His voice is gravel, raw with restraint.
None of the men I’ve ever kissed have made me forget where I am with a single touch. But Matteo No-Last-Name has successfully done that.
“My car’s outside,” he continues when I don’t immediately answer. “Say yes, Raven.”
I find my voice, somehow make it steady. “Yes.”
Chapter 3
