“Suit yourself. I’ll find you at the bar.” Feeling flustered for reasons she can’t quite understand, Kara takes the stairs to go up to the top deck, the stifling heat from the dancefloor overpowering. The night air is lovely, like a drink in the desert.
Fire pits are spread out, groups of people smoking. Kara ignores them all and goes straight to the railing, spreading her arms out to stare at the cityscape in front of her, glittering lights, honking horns, the sounds of nightclubs beating in the undercurrent.
Within minutes, she’s actually cold, the night air dipping. Kara shivers, about to turn and go back down into the hot club when someone warm presses against her back, shielding her from the chilly night breeze. Kara tenses.
“Don’t get all nervous, it’s just me,” Dietrich says flatly.
“Now I’mreallynervous.”
His body is draped behind hers like a wall, his hands on the rails just on the outside of hers. “You like to play hard to get, don’t you?” His mouth is by her ear and Kara shivers, though not from the cold.
Kara grins at the slightly put out tone in his voice. “Maybe I just like making sure you don’t get your way so easily.”
His body is warm behind hers, solid. “Then, you should know; I’m into that shit. Maybe you should stop while you’re ahead, chickadee.” His words shift her hair slightly and Kara feels electricity run up her spine.
“I thought you enjoyed having women falling all over you? You certainly have no shortage of that from the looks of it.”
“Fucking one of those women is like getting a participation trophy; it takes so little effort and the sense of accomplishment is a fat zero. I’m a sportsman; I like a challenge.” One of his hands makes its way to her upper back, pushing her forward slightly, threatening. “But there’s a difference in being hard to get and being insulting.”
Kara feels her throat tighten in momentary fear. He could knock her right over the edge. It isn’t like he’s not capable; she’s seen him do it before. There’s a certain dangerous power to him; Dietrich Bittinger can get away with just about anything he wants.
And, Kara is no one.
Feeling the strength in his hand, Kara shakily says, “Please, let me turn around.”
His hand relaxes pressure on her spine, sliding away as he takes a step back from her. Kara lets out a shaky breath, her fingers briefly tightening on the railing before she turns to face him. Pale, lovely hair, and sharp, stunning eyes. He’s so handsome it’s almost painful for Kara to look at him.
Dietrich’s eyes are half-lidded as he looks her over with an almost bored expression, as if he hadn’t just threatened to knock her over the railing. “Gale says you’ve been declining to come out on the boat again. Why?”
Kara looks away sharply. “That’s what this is about?Jesus.I just didn’t want to.”
“That’s the least convincing answer I’ve ever heard. Try again.”
Kara meets his green gaze again, firelight behind his back, almost giving him a halo.Maybe I don’t trust myself with you.Her mouth twists in discomfort, feeling pinned in place. “I’ve been busy.”
He rolls his eyes with a vicious air of irritation.
Taking in a mental deep breath, Kara finds herself saying words to calm him, “I have a favor to ask of you.”
He stills, peridot eyes flickering with city lights. Then, he says, “Are you willing to play ball?”
Swallowing thickly, Kara whispers, “Yes.”
The scent of him washes over her. Clean, fresh. Crisp apple, mint. The scent of champagne, sharp. His lips brush her ear as he suddenly leans into her space. Kara feels like she’s going to die, her heart is racing so fast from his proximity. “Meet me for brunch tomorrow,” he says smugly. “You can tell me all your woes, chickadee.”
She nods, feeling an edge of danger inside of her.
He sneers, the curl of his lip that reminds her of a wolf. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I like when we get along.”
Later, when she leaves to go home with Bianca, she ponders over the fact that she has his number in her cell phone and it makes her feel like she’s lost some sort of battle.
The next morning, she finds him easily enough at the ritzy brunch café. He’s seated by the window, a perfect ray of sunlight hitting him just so. He looks like an angel, just sitting there, like he knows everyone is gaping at him. Pristine, face serious and smooth, like he’s expecting someone to pop out of the ground and start making a portrait of him.
When Kara sits down across from him, his eyes flicker over her with what may or may not be feigned disinterest. He’s double fisting an espresso and a Bloody Mary. Kara finds it rather extreme, like a match made in heaven for acid reflux.
“What do you want to drink?” He pushes the brunch menu at Kara. “The bloody’s are pretty strong.” He gestures for a waitress to come over. The young woman looks less than perky when she notices Kara.
“I’d like an orange juice and a coffee, please.” Kara says, though she’d love a mimosa.