Page 67 of Wicked Serve

“It’s stunning.” I shake my head as I sip the champagne. “Look at the flower arrangements! The cake!”

“I’ve missed how excited weddings make you.”

I couldn’t fight my smile if I tried. “Did you know this was happening?”

“I figured you’d be up for a little fun.” He grins; there’s no doubt he liked playing pretend as much as me. “I’m glad I chose this dress for you.”

I look down at the sequin-studded, midnight-blue ball gown. It’s the perfect fit, a detail that didn’t escape me when he buttoned me into it earlier. “It does suit the theme.”

“It suits your eyes.” He holds out his hand. “Dance with me, Isabelle.”

“Yvette, you mean.”

“No. I mean my Isabelle.”

My Isabelle.

Sebastian’s words echo in my mind, despite my best efforts to keep them at bay. I’m terrified to ruin the delicate balance we’ve struck. I know I need to tell Nik about how I feel; I owe him that honesty—but not yet. Not here.

Not on a perfect night like this.

He sweeps me onto the dance floor as a new song starts. It’s slow and romantic, perfect for dancing. In the middle of the crowd, the bride and groom sway as one, looking at each other lovingly. I smile, even though I have no idea who they are. A wedding isn’t a love story all on its own, but it is a symbol of whatever road the couple has been on and where they want to go in the future, and I’ve always found that beautiful.

“They look happy,” I murmur.

Nik pulls me close, one hand on my hip, the other holding my palm. I put my free hand on his broad shoulder, letting myself get as close as I can without tripping over his feet. He spins me, then pulls me back in, guiding our shared movements. Jumping on the dance floor at a college party isn’t the same as a waltz like this, and despite loving to dance, I don’t do it enough. The give-and-take of our bodies leaves me breathless. Soon, I’m yearning for more contact, more warmth, more of the promises he’s giving me with his gaze.

This is the best Izzy Day I’ve ever had.

Somehow, I manage to contain myself as we dance through the next three songs. If anyone realizes we don’t belong, they keep it to themselves. At the end of the third, the last bars of music fade into the air without immediately leading into the next. I press a fevered kiss to his lips.

“You dressed me.” I scratch my nails down the back of his neck, underneath the collar. He dragged on lacy scraps of lingerie and the dress; he clasped the necklace around my throat and knelt to guide my feet into the shoes. “Are you going to undress me, too?”

The desire in his eyes makes my breath catch.

Plenty of guys have admired me, complimented me—but no one, no one, has looked like he’s desperate to breathe the same air as me.

“Slowly.” His voice is so low, so rough. “As slowly as I can make myself, because the moment you’re in nothing but that necklace—”

I drag him out of the room by the tie.

Chapter 33

Izzy

By the time the elevator door dings, Nik has me in a bridal carry.

The silken dress slides over my legs like water. It’s ridiculous, because all he did was press me against the elevator wall and kiss me on the short ride up, but I’m on edge already. He unlocks the door to the suite without putting me down, then kicks the door shut. He strides right through the tastefully appointed living room to the bedroom, setting me on the bed—and slipping to his knees.

“No nightcap?” I tease.

He runs his hand down my calf. I let out a small sigh as he takes off my heel; my feet have been aching since the walk back to the hotel. He slips off the other heel, sets both aside, and starts to rub my feet.

“I’m finding myself hungry again.” His serious, sensual eyes settle on me. “I’ll need something more than a drink.”

A moan escapes my lips as he presses his thumbs against the arch of my foot. I kick my leg reflexively. “You promised to undress me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He moves to the other foot. I knew his fingers were talented in other regards, but this is new. “Gorgeous girl.”

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