“Did you just forget who you are dating?” he teased again, and I let out a quiet laugh.
“A billionaire with a massive ego… nope, I didn’t forget.” Was my awesome comeback… awesome because it got me another one of those bursts of laughter I could easily get addicted to.
“Have you tried it before?” he asked, nodding to the bar and making me scoff again,
“On my salary?” I snorted softly.
“Not exactly.”
“Although I did help work on a campaign once for a whiskey company, so technically I had to do some research. Although not the type of research that sounds fun, like getting to sample the goods, but the boring kind that includes late nights with my laptop and coffee.” I admitted with a small smile, making him chuckle.
“You clearly enjoy what you do,” he stated, and I glanced up at him in surprise.
“Now we are definitely entering first date territory,” I teased, and his arms tightened slightly around me.
“You are still sitting in my lap,” he pointed out, as if wanting to remind me that this was actually far from a date. As if we had skipped right past casual dating and had headed straight into the serious relationship zone. A thought that certainly had me swallowing hard.
“If we are calling this a first date, then I believe we skipped several steps,” he said as if he could read my mind.
“Well, you're right…I mean, kidnapping usually happens after the third date when the stalker gets rejected.” I said playfully, and a low growl vibrated softly against the side of my neck after he pulled me closer.
“Behave,”he rumbled the word, and again, a total toe-curling moment. Although the sound should have been intimidating. Yet instead, it sent a soft, traitorous shiver through me. One that I did my very best to pretend had absolutely nothing to do with the way his mouth had brushed dangerously close to my neck when he said it.
I shifted slightly on his lap, attempting to regain at least a fragment of composure. Although, admittedly, that proved difficult when the solid warmth of him remained pressed firmly against me. One of his arms was still draped comfortably around my waist, holding me there with an ease that suggested he had absolutely no intention of letting me move anytime soon.
Which, unfortunately, meant I was left with very little to distract myself from the situation other than the rest of the room.
So, my eyes wandered again.
At first, it was simply curiosity. A quiet attempt to remind myself that the club had resumed its usual rhythm after his rather dramatic announcement. Demons were once again scattered throughout the VIP floor, conversations rising andfalling beneath the slow pulse of the music as drinks were delivered and laughter drifted between the velvet booths.
Torin’s head turned slightly from across the floor, his expression tightening with what looked suspiciously like disbelief at the sight of his lord so at ease. I couldn’t help but slip my gaze back to the man I was currently using as a seat.
Up close, it was difficult not to notice things about Wye that were far too distracting for someone trying to maintain a sensible conversation. The sharp line of his jaw. The way the low amber lighting of the club caught faintly in the pale silver flecks in his blue eyes. The small curve of amusement that still lingered around his mouth, as though he was quietly enjoying my attempts to avoid the situation entirely. Which was most likely why the second my attention went back to the people staring at us, he advised,
“Forget about them,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing slowly along the curve of my jaw in a gesture so gentle that it almost made my breath catch.
“Focus on me,” he said, which was an incredibly unfair request considering how difficult he already was to ignore. Still, I tried.
“Okay, so if we are truly pretending this is a first date, then you should probably ask me something about myself,” I said after a moment. I drew in a small breath as I attempted to remember what we had been talking about before I had started people watching.
“Should I?”
“That is usually how these things work.” His head tilted slightly as though considering the idea.
“Very well,” he replied before his gaze moved slowly across my face, studying me with a quiet intensity that made my pulse behave very strangely.
“Tell me something about yourself that I would not expect.” I had to laugh at that and pointed out,
“That is a dangerously vague question.”
“Then allow me to narrow it.” His fingers drifted lightly along my arm again, the backs of them tracing idle patterns against my skin that were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
“You said earlier that you worked on a campaign for whiskey.”
“I did,” I said with a nod.
“It was clear to me after only a few minutes that you clearly love what you do, so my question is, why?”
