Page 37 of Sinful Promises

We clinked our glasses and sipped our drinks. As I savored the delicious citrus-flavored cocktail, I hoped that my current vision was one that would flash before my eyes. But at the same time, I also wished that I had time to make many, many more of these memories. “How’s your Big V?”

“Delicious. Is it ‘V’ for virgin?”

“Nope. I thought you’d say that.”

“Yeah, ’cause it’s the first time I’ve tried it. What about victory?”

I shook my head.

“Venus.”

“Nope.”

“Voluptuous.” His eyes were alive with mischief.

I sipped my drink, acting as cool as an ice cube. But my insides were having a little party. Roman was a tease and I was still uncertain whether he knew it or not. Finally, I said, “You’ll never guess.”

“Okay, I give up.”

“It’s ‘V’ for Vendetta.”

He huffed and his eyes twinkled. “I like voluptuous better.”

The bugger was flirting with me, and damn, if my body wasn’t reacting to those eyes with the most delicious sensations coursing through me.

Roman drained his drink and plonked his challis down. “What are we going to try next?”

“Oh.” I couldn’t believe how quickly he’d drunk that. But, happy to get him tipsy for a change, I grabbed the menu and the purple light and scanned the list. No sooner had I turned out the light than our leather-vested waiter returned.

“We’ll have a Unicorn for me, and my friend here will have the Treasure Hunter.”

Roman slipped back on his seat, and when he ran his hands through his hair and pursed his lips, I had a feeling he was going to say something very important. He didn’t. He just sat and looked at me.

So, keeping my cool, I sipped the last of my drink and stared at him across the table, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind.

But our drinks arrived before we reached that point. My drink was delivered in a tall, narrow glass displaying three different colors—red, blue, and white. And when I stirred them together, they became a vibrant purple color. Roman’s was a clear liquid with a giant ball of ice at the bottom. Inside the ball was an orange liquid and his straw had pierced the ice ball, giving him direct access.

He leaned forward and sipped from the inside of the cube. His eyes rolled. “Oh, yum. You have to try this.” He glided the glass toward me.

I sipped on the straw. The liquor was sweet and strong and potent. “Butterscotch schnapps.”

He nodded as I slid the glass back to him. He sucked on the straw again and his eyes swooped down to my cleavage. But then the craziest thing happened . . . they lingered there.

This was no quick peek. This was a full-on perv.

Either that or I’d spilled something on my boobs and he couldn’t drag his eyes away. I glanced down to check. Nope, all good there. Yet Roman remained transfixed. Maybe he’d slipped into a coma.

My damn girly bits were performing their own little dance party and I wanted to scream at the injustice.

Roman was cruel, and my body was evil.

I pushed my half-finished drink aside and snapped my fingers at him. “Hey, what’re you looking at?”

“Nothing.” His eyes did a quick roll and I thought he was going to topple off his chair.

Holy shit. Roman is drunk.

That was another first for my list.

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