“… well then,” Teresa’s voice came back into focus, grounding Noah back in reality as her hand patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think we’ve met before,” she said, letting Noah go as she chuckled at the red-haired man.
“I don’t believe we have,” the diplomat agreed, shifting his attention from Noah to her. “I’m the newly appointed representative from the Asian Federation’s Eastern-Pacific Region. Reign Lennox.” Reign’s intense garnet eyes darted to Noah, deliberate in the way they stayed on him. “It’s truly a pleasure to finally meet you…”
Noah’s every cell tingled in alertness.No, those words, that statement, it wasn’t meant for Teresa. It was meant for him. It had to be, since why else would Reign meet his gaze like this? Why would he look at Noah, zero in on him as if he was the only person in the room worth looking at? Or that’s what Noah’s brain insisted, clearly reading too much into the diplomat’s likely unintentional actions.
“I hear your dedication to the Church rivals that of the Cardinal himself,” Reign added in that sexy voice of his.
“You flatter me, Mr. Lennox,” Teresa laughed, inclining her head toward the tables inside as waiters started bringing in the food. “Let’s enjoy dinner before we continue mingling, shall we?” she addressed everyone.
Reign Lennox… a name that suited the demon just as perfectly as that voice. The second of the three things Noah didn’t know about the imaginary visitor was now no longer a mystery.
“Noah, dear,” Teresa said, pulling Noah to the side as he made to follow the crowd inside. “I have a few things to discuss with some of the representatives, so could you keep the restcompany?”
Noah’s eyes flitted to Reign, watching him as he sat down at the second table, situated near the windows. “Ah, yes, of course,” he replied absentmindedly, nodding at her without meeting her eyes.
“Thank you, dear.”
While Teresa took her place at the bigger table, Noah made his way to the smaller one, claiming the seat across from the red-haired diplomat. Three other people were sitting at the table, but Noah didn’t really pay attention to who they were, his focus entirely on Reign.
How could Reign look so much like Noah’s made-up demon?
Despite the hectic-but-tolerable rhythm of his heartbeat and the nerves twisting like living vines in his stomach, Noah couldn’t help but peek at Reign every chance he got until the entrees were served. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look at Reign past that point; he just ran into a somewhat major problem because he’d forgotten to ask Teresa about proper table manners. He had two options: to pick the utensils at random or to try and work out, somehow, the right order. Normally, he would’ve done the latter, but his brain wasn’t exactly cooperating due to the lingering shock of meeting the embodiment of his fantasy obsession. Option one—winging it—lacked appeal precisely because Noah didn’t want to make an idiot out of himself in front of Reign Lennox, which left him with his third option, an impromptu Plan C.
Making it as casual as he could so he wouldn’t alert anyone to his minor impediment, Noah glanced at the dark-haired woman with the neat plait on his left, hoping to decipher which fork to use.
“Noah.” That impossibly attractive voice hijacked Noah’s attention. His name said so carefully inReign’s tenor had him wishing things he had no place wishing in the middle of a fancy dinner. “Silverware is used in order from the outermost, so use the salad fork first,” Reign explained, pointing to the leftmost fork.
It was twice as embarrassing that Reign had noticed his confusion after all the effort Noah put into preventing exactly that, but on the bright side, hearing his name come out of that mouth because of it was totally worth it.
“Ah, thank you…” Noah was tempted to say Reign’s name just so he could feel the syllables roll off his tongue, but he wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to address a diplomat by his first name, so he left it at that.
Reign smiled, this one also a barely there lift of his lips. “You are welcome.” He watched Noah for a few more moments, then stabbed a grape with his fork and carried it to his mouth without ceasing eye contact.
The hairs on the back of Noah’s neck stood up not just because of the sensuality with which Reign ate that grape, but more so because of the man’s intense and unwavering gaze which remained trained on him.
Clearing his throat and chasing away the inappropriate thoughts swirling in his mind, Noah focused on the food in silence for the entire service. With more effort than he would’ve thought necessary, he kept his glances at the other man to a minimum, but it seemed Reign had a knack for catching him in the act no matter how subtle he tried to be.
Reign also smiledeverytime. And unlike earlier, it was the kind of smile that hinted at things other than just amusement… or so Noah’s overexcited brain decided to think. Not that he was going to give into such delusions, of course, at least not more than what he deemed was a healthy diversion from reality.
Once dinner was over and Noah had mingled with some diplomats while consciously avoiding Reign, he retreated to the terrace and picked a spot along the wooden banister. Teresa had announced that those interested, which included him since he was her aide, would be going to a high-end night bar. He’d never been to one before, so he was sort of looking forward to it, even if drinking wasn’t really his thing.
Noah let his eyelids droop and leaned forward on the railing, the buzz of voices and quiet music taking over his thoughts about a certain red-haired man. There were occasional clinks of glass as people cheered, thuds as they walked and… fabric rustling as someone took the spot next to him. Teresa, if he had to guess, probably here to demand something of him.
Was it time to go? Did she need him to round up the diplomats?
“I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier,Noah.” Reign’s lilting timbre hijacked Noah’s every fiber, smooth and so impossibly alluring. “I didn’t mean to stare, but I will admit; your struggle choosing silverware had me slightly entertained.”
Noah opened his eyes. Reign came into focus slowly, gradually, first the glitter of the material of his snug black shirt, then the wine glass in his hand as he placed it down on the banister.How could a man Noah had just met look like the one he’d been dreaming of for years?
“It was a bit embarrassing, but… it’s my own fault for not asking Teresa about it beforehand,” Noah shot back, his voice a bit on the raspy side, but, well, he hadn’t expected Reign to come outside and engage in conversation.
“It is your first time at a gathering of this kind?”
Damn, that voice. Noah could listen to it all day, to that hint of guttural deepness in the otherwise youthful and elegant smoothness of it. Indeed, this voice was a match so perfect for the fantasy version of Reign, too.
“Yeah,” he confessed, seeing no point in pretending he belonged where he so obviously didn’t. “As I imagine you can easily see, this sort of thing is not something I do much of.” There was a bite to his tone, Noah could tell, like he was challenging Reign on that, but Reign didn’t seem to mind it. On the contrary; he smiled, his eyes not leaving Noah’s face or losing their tantalizing glimmer.
“Then what sort of thing do you do more of, Noah?”
