Page 15 of Cursed

Vince shook off the completely irrational surge of jealousy that rolled over him, then looked up to see Edeena eyeing him intently. “We can leave at will, right? You don’t have to . . .” she waved her hand at the room. “Check out or anything?”

“Key is one use only. When we leave, I scan it, and it informs security and housekeeping that the room is no longer occupied. At that point, I can keep it as a souvenir, or toss it.”

“Keep it, for now,” Edeena said thoughtfully. Her gaze shifted to the windows again. Now Wyndham was gone, but Janet remained holding court, sashaying around in her mini-dress and—yes, Edeena was right—positioning herself to best effect for the window. Edeena snorted, then turned back to him, pointing at the champagne. “And like Marguerite said, please bring that, would you? I think it’s time for a celebration.”

Vince grabbed the bottle of champagne, not even trying to understand Edeena’s words as he exited the room behind her. She took the bottle from him as he rescanned the keycard, but instead of hoofing it down the long passageway, she moved more slowly, peering into every alcove.

“You want to tell me what you’re looking for?”

“Vantage point.”

They moved out into the antechamber where the VIP suite guards were stationed, the wall of noise smiting them with a physical force. A few other partiers were now lingering in the area, And Edeena stopped abruptly as she scanned the heavily-fringed damask curtains.

“This will do nicely I think. It’s been about five minutes since we left?”

“Something like that.”

“Good.” She turned into his body, her face tilted up with an expression of pure, doe-eyed expectation, the bottle of booze hanging limply from her hand. And instantly, Vince got it.

“I suppose you are paying me a full retainer,” he said, taking the bottle from her. “I’ll hold onto this.”

“That you so much for not making me explain.”

Vince chuckled as he led Edeena more deeply into the shadows—not so far that she couldn’t be seen in her short minidress and dark tumble of hair, but far enough to give at least the impression of discretion. Appearances were important here, he knew. Then he wrapped both arms around her, holding up the distinctively labeled bottle of champagne, label out. No one passing by would be able to miss it.

He looked down at Edeena, glad she’d chosen a location for this tableau that was at least was partially lit. She was absolutely stunning, her expression caught in a haze of desire that might be real or fake. He didn’t know, and honestly, he didn’t care which it was at the moment. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyelids dropped ever so much, and her color was high. As he pressed her against him, he could feel her heart beating wildly behind the soft swell of her breasts, and the necessity of their positioning left no question as to the state of his own arousal.

He refused to apologize for it.

“Ahhh.” Instead of shifting away, Edeena plunged right into the fire, pressing herself more firmly against his body, her right leg running up against his. She leaned back, and he didn’t wait for permission to nuzzle his mouth against her soft skin, his lips following the trail of skin from the tip of her delicate ear down the curve of her neck, inviting him to kiss, lick, explore his way along the long, slender column and into the sensitive hollow where her pulse thumped and hammered.

Edeena drew in a harsh hiss, then she was clutching at him, her words an inarticulate question that brought his head up for only a moment before he found her mouth with his.

This was something more than the kiss they’d shared briefly in the bright sunshine of the pool area—something more and something continued, he realized in an instant. Edeena’s mouth opened before his and she pressed herself against him almost hungrily, the movement threatening to make him loosen his grip on the champagne bottle and send it crashing to the floor.

Instead, he gripped it more tightly—and gripped Edeena more tightly, tasting her mouth, sliding his tongue past the barrier of his lips to explore her wet heat, his body almost rigid with urgency.

It was only the dimmest portion of his brain that registered the waft of perfume and rustle of silk that marked the passage of a second woman next to him—close but not too close—a woman who hesitated only slightly before pushing past the damask curtain. He hoped—no, prayed—that Edeena hadn’t noticed, but of course she did.

She didn’t stop kissing him, though. Not for another long, delicious moment anyway.

Then she pulled back, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone more beautiful in his life.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes shining.

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