Yep, gaping was allowed. Blaéz stood in the doorway, hands in his pants pockets, watching her with a lazy, sensual stare that created a deep flutter in her belly. Whichever designer he wore, he looked downright scrumptious in black on black formal wear. Tailored pants hugged his long, muscular legs, and his suit jacket did little to conceal the hard, sexy body beneath it.
He walked to her with that unconscious grace, turned her so she faced the floor-length mirror again. A hand on her churning stomach, Darci watched him. His handsome face, dark hair and clothes a striking contrast to her own golden brown appearance.
He trailed his fingers down her bare spine and desire spread goose bumps over her skin. He fiddled with her zipper and pulled it up. She must have left a little undone. He kissed her nape, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “You’re beautiful,a leannan.”
Darci pivoted in his arms, his warmth and masculine scent wrapping around her like a silken caress made it difficult to think beyond wanting to tear his clothes off.
“You…” She slipped her hands beneath his suit jacket and stroked his silk-covered chest. “Gorgeous. Hot. Sex on legs.”
“Sex on—” Dry amusement lit his gaze. He nipped her unadorned earlobe. “Let’s go before I throw you on that bed and ruin your dress and hair.”
Her mind in a whirl, Darci grabbed her evening purse as he led her out into the corridor, a hand on her lower back. She gave him a playful look. Taunted. “Since when did that stop you?”
“Well, then.” He moved so fast, she squeaked as he crowded her, steering her back into the bedroom, reprisal etched on his face. Laughing, she tried to duck under his arm, but he anticipated her move, blocked her, and pressed her up against the corridor wall with his tough body.
Sighing, she wrapped her arms around his neck, whispered against his lips. “How about we leave now, come back early, and I’ll let you have your wicked way with me?”
“Wicked way?” He kissed her. “Indeed, always my favorite kind.”
As he took her hand and headed for the stairs, Darci’s grip tightened on her evening purse that held the disc. Too afraid to let it out of her sight, and yet so afraid of it.
* * *
The hotel’s elegant ballroom swarmed with guests relaxing now that the formalities and dinner were over.
Darci had congratulated Irina and her fiancé, Thomas, when they’d arrived earlier that evening, then she’d introduced Blaéz. It was only natural that people had stared, some in fascination, others warily.
Now, as the engaged couple swayed on the crowded dance floor like two matched bookends to some slow ballad, Darci wanted more than anything to be in Blaéz’s arms. She leaned her elbows on the damask tablecloth and glanced at him seated beside her.
At his raised brow, she said, “Dance with me?”
“I don’t dance. Ask me to fight, and you’d have a better response.”
Darci had to bite back her smile. The response was so like him. “How would you know, if you won’t try, huh?”
“Because—” he lightly trailed his fingers down her back, sending shivers skating over her bare skin, “if I hold you in my arms, then I’ll want to make love to you, that’s how I know. It’s not worth it when I’ll be left wanting.”
A tremulous laugh escaping, Darci wheedled. “Don’t think about that, just keep some space between us and it will work. I promise.”
“Doubtful.” His pale eyes heated like a rising thermostat. “All I can think of when I hold you is touching you, and very inappropriately I might add. And that’s not for others to see.”
Warmth rushing to her face, she gave up and hastily studied the décor instead. But with nothing to distract her, the knot in her belly started to tighten again. No matter how much she tried not to think about what was at stake, to just enjoy this time with Blaéz, the truth hovered in the back of her mind like a malignant virus.
Her fingers tightened on her champagne glass, knowing soon it would all be over. Tears thickened her throat. A damn week. Or Grace would lose the baby and the demon would finally claim Blaéz.
“What’s wrong?”
At Blaéz’s soft question, she swallowed more of the bubbly liquid to steady herself before she looked at him. She forced her lips to curve in a semblance of a smile. “Nothing. I’m just wondering if Nora is here yet.”
“I’m sure she’ll find you,” he said, his gaze narrowing. Unable to bear his scrutiny, knowing he’d ask and she’d tell him and ruin this night, Darci pushed to her feet. “I need the restroom.”
He rose. She patted his arm. “No. Stay. Take notes on the dancing, maybe you’ll change your mind.”
“Unlikely.”
She sighed. “I’ll never get to dance with you, will I?”
He shot her a hooded stare. “Later, in our room…we’ll dance.”
