It made that uncomfortable sensation within him worse, causing his stomach to fold in on itself until he felt like throwing up. “So, uh, where are we going for dinner exactly?” he forced out, needing to steer them away from further ‘flirting’.
“The Glass Tower. I’ve booked the whole observation deck so we won’t be disturbed,” Teresasaid easily, like it wasn’t a big deal they were going to Lisbon’s most renowned establishment.
The Glass Tower was an architectural marvel because of its extravagance. Characterized by the futuristic design of its exterior which looked like a glass spindle, it was the highest building on the continent with its height of 900 meters. It was built three years ago as a symbol of the end of WW3 and the unification of the entirety of Europe under the Holy Christian Empire. So, of course, they would be having dinner there and,of course, she’d booked the entire observation deck. Silly of Noah to have even asked.
“Excited?” she inquired, her brown eyes scanning him as she took out an electronic cigarette.
“Yes, I’ve only ever seen it from outside,” he confessed truthfully, picturing the outer metal façade that spiraled the glass tube.
“Well, today you get to see it from the inside.”
Noah let her smoke in peace for the rest of their trip, quite happy for the silence even if the sickeningly sweet scent of vanilla and caramel wasn’t really his thing. When they arrived, a member of the staff was already waiting for them by the Tower’s entrance.
“Good evening, Madame Teresa,” the man in a black suit over a white dress shirt welcomed them, bowing with a hand across his stomach like a butler. “Your guests are all here already and we’ve served them light drinks while they wait for your arrival.”
“Thank you, Natali. Please start bringing out the food as well,” she instructed, boarding the elevator after him.
“As you wish.”
Noah’s gaze was glued to the majestic panorama of the city for the entire duration of their ride to the observation deck. The sky was a clear baby blue and he could see as far as the shore and even beyond the forests, the view truly mesmerizing from this high up.
“Madame Teresa,” Natali said as they reached the last floor, putting a stop to Noah’s appreciation of a bird’s eye Lisbon. “Kani will take you to the central salon.” He pointed at one of the two waiters standing across from the elevator. “Margareta is overseeing the service tonight, so please direct any requests to her. I will let the kitchen know dinner is to be served shortly.”
“Madame Teresa,” Kani and Margareta said in unison, dipping their heads. “This way, please.”
Whites, grays and silvers comprised the color palette of this floor, both walls and decorations conforming to it. A pair of glass doors waited at the end of the hall, and beyond them Noah found himself in a massive open-plan room. An arrangement of angel statues sat in its center, and a dozen or so tables were scattered along the left-hand side, while the other one was a lounge area that came with a small stage where a group of musicians played live classical music. Opulence characterized the interior at large, with golden motifs bringing in a splash of color as embroidery and cutlery glittered under the caress of withering sunlight.
“Gentlemen and ladies,” Teresa spoke up as soon as the group of people standing around the outside bar on the balcony noticed her and Noah’s approach. “Welcome to Lisbon. I hope your travels here were light and pleasant.”
Noah let her handle the greetings, walking over to a potted bonsai by the terrace’s doors.
“Teresa! How are you?” A curvy blonde wearing a red dress gave Teresa a hug.
“Excited to have you all here,” Teresa said to everyone, her smile widening. “And I see there are some unfamiliar faces I don’t recognize.”
Noah had no idea who she was referring to since he knew none of them. He wondered if he should, but then he didn’t really follow news all that much, so unless they were ministers or secretaries or whatever that position was called in the Asian Federation, he probably wouldn’t have remembered them anyway. Five of them looked to be around his age, but the woman Teresa had hugged and a man with an impressive full beard were closer in age to her.
Noah frowned, counting the delegates again. Wait, weren’t there supposed to be eight?
“It seems we are missing one…” Teresa pointed out, voicing his thoughts.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the clank of dress shoes against the ceramic tiles of the observation deck had her and Noah snap their attention to the source. Noah’s heart lurched the moment he laid eyes on the eighth diplomat, his pulse skyrocketing so quickly it skewed his breathing and turned it shallow. His jaw went slack, then clenched painfully, every fiber of his body alight as he drank in the man walking toward them.
Because hecouldn’tbe real. Not his mahogany hair tied in a loose ponytail, not his delicately chiseled face that looked like a piece of art, not the disarming, soul-robbing garnet eyes or the beauty mark to the left of his lips.
This man simply couldn’t exist, not outside of the limits of Noah’s imagination, and yet here he was, his presence as tangible as the caress of the fabric of Noah’s shirt against his skin.
“Madame Teresa,” the diplomat said in a voice not too deep but slightly hoarse and so perfect a fit for his breathtaking beauty.
The sound of it, the smoothness of its timbre, it engulfed Noah, reverberated through him, stirring heat and desire he could barely keep down. He watched captivated as the man held Teresa’s hand and lifted it to his mouth, planting a kiss on her knuckles. At the point of contact between his lips and Teresa’s fingers, his gaze found Noah’s and held it, setting off goosebumps all across Noah’s body.
“Now that we are all here, I’d like to introduce my aide,” Teresa said, gesturing at Noah. “This lovely young man, Noah, will accompany us today and tomorrow. He’s one of…”
Noah got distracted as the diplomat circled around her and joined the other representatives. He couldn’t take his eyes off the man, couldn’t not track those elegant movements, his brain still fighting to comprehend this turn of events.
How the hell was it possible for this man, this diplomat from Asia, to look so much like the demon from Noah’s fantasies? He didn’t have the tail or the red skin and his hair wasn’t the right length, sure, but he was otherwise identical, a perfect copy down to the curve of his jaw, the thickness of his long eyelashes and the narrowness of his frame.
As Teresa carried on blabbering words Noah didn’t even register, the diplomat accepted a glass of wine from one of the other representatives and took a sip, directing his gaze at Noah again. Then he smiled, a slight lift of his thin lips that made Noah tremble and scramble to gather himself as more heat rushed down his spine and flooded his core.
