Page 84 of Hearts Of Darkness

“Why not?” She frowns. “He’s got that dark and mysterious thing going on, and I bet you were lonely in that place. Anyway, he’s hot!”

“Then maybe you’re dancing with the wrong person.”

“Maybe I am,” she says, smirking at me.

Laughing, I turn back to Manuel and motion for him to come and join us, and then I freeze. Right away, he’s spinning around to see what’s grabbed my attention. His gaze snaps back to me, and he’s by my side in an instant.

“What is it, señorita?”

“I swear I just…” I trail off in bewilderment. “I must be seeing things. I knew drinking alcohol again would be a bad idea.”

It couldn’t be, could it?

But the tingle on my arms is unmistakable, and there’s a slow, steady pulse unfurling between my legs. There’s only one man in the world whose nearness can influence my body like this. There’s only one man with the same fluid-controlled movement, the same breadth of shoulder, the same tousled silky black hair that I’m constantly aching to run my fingers through. I only caught a glimpse as he made his way up to the VIP lounge, but it’s more than enough to convince me.

“Dante,” I whisper.

Manuel’s expression changes. “Here?” He whips around again and scans the overheated crowds.

“Heading upstairs.” I clutch his arm to steady myself.

“Are you sure?” Manuel’s eyes rake across my face, searching for traces of ambiguity or hesitation.

“I have to find him.”

“Okay, señorita.”

There are so many questions in my head as he ushers me over to the staircase next to the bar.

What is Dante doing back in Miami?

Why didn’t he come and find me?

“You can’t go up there.” A beefy-looking guy in a cheap black suit slaps his arm across Manuel’s chest.

“Get your hands off me.” The Colombian shoves the club bouncer aside and reaches underneath the back of his shirt for his gun.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Anna comes rushing up to us, and Manuel drops his arm again.

“You know these people, babe?” The bouncer loses his tough-guy act immediately.

“We need to get up to the VIP area,” I tell her. “Can you help us?”

She nods. “Of course. Hey, Sammy, let my friends through, okay?”

“Sure thing, honey,” he drawls, standing to one side, as if it’s the easiest decision in the world.

“Why the VIPs?” asks Anna, as we hurry up the stairs together. “I never figured you as a fame whore.”

“I think I just saw some guy I used to work with. I need to speak with him about a job.”

Anna buys it right away. I’m an ace at threading white lies through any sentences these days.

We reach the VIP area and scan the crowds of celebrities.

“So, what does he look like?”

“Tall, dark…”

---