Page 6 of Pretending I'm Yours

I was twenty-one by the time I finally started flirting with men at the pub. I was twenty-one and a half when I realized no one in Sea Breeze wanted anything to do with sweet little Maya Swallows inthatway. Boys my age want to be my friend, and older guys want to protect me like a sister. Even the tourists seemed to find it easy to steer clear of more than a kiss or two on the beach after the Friday night lobster boil.

In three years of dedicated effort, I’ve barely made it to third base.

Which is why I’m here. I’m twenty-four years old, for goodness sakes. I’m tired of waiting for Fate to throw me a bone. It’s high time I took matters into my own hands and tracked down the bone myself.

The thought makes me think of boners, which makes me snort with nervous laughter, which makes me cough, ensuring I’m red-faced and wiping tears from the corners of my eyes when the hostess materializes from the velvet curtains like a supermodel genie emerging from a lamp.

“Are you all right?” she asks, her big brown eyes soft with concern.

I nod and press a hand to my chest, fighting to regain control. “Yes. Thank you, I just—” I cough again before sucking in a breath and holding it for a beat. When I’m certain the storm has passed, I exhale and offer a sheepish, “Sorry about that.”

The insanely beautiful woman smiles warmly, her teeth as bright as the shimmery fabric of her gauzy white dress. “No need to apologize. I’ll get you a glass of water when we get to Ms.Kincaid’s office.” She motions toward the deep V in the curtains to our right, where another beautifully carved door is tucked into the shadows. “Shall we?”

“Oh. Yes. Thank you. Sure.” I gulp and stand, my hands fluttering nervously at my sides, two virginal birds certain they’re headed to the slaughter.

The hostess rests a slim hand on my shoulder, her touch cool through the black spandex of my borrowed gown. “Don’t worry,” she assures me softly. “We’ll be going through the bar to the back stairs. There’s a mandatory orientation before guests visit the garden level. We’ll make sure you’re comfortable and prepared before you join the fun.” She bobs an easy shoulder. “And if you’d prefer to spend the night in the bar or in the library with a good book, that’s fine, too. We have an incredible collection of novels and a fantastic little fireplace. It’s especially nice this time of year, with all the evergreen boughs hung around the mantle. I’m Raven, by the way.”

I nod, grateful for her kindness. “Thank you. That sounds wonderful.”

And it does sound wonderful. I love a night snuggled up with a good book beside a cozy fire.

But I’m not here to stay in my comfort zone.

I’m here to be a brave new Maya.

With that in mind, I follow Raven through the heavy door, into a room that smells of mulling spices and expensive whiskey. As my eyes adjust to the brighter light, I take in what has to be the most beautiful bar I’ve ever seen.

Soaring ceilings painted with clouds and cherubs float above walls covered in gleaming gold leaf and mirrors cut into geometric art deco patterns. A massive curved bar dominates one wall, its dark mahogany surface polished to a mirror shine and backed by shelves of glittering bottles that stretch all the way to the ceiling.

Crystal decanters catch the light from several chandeliers, sending rainbow prisms dancing across the black marble floor. Men and women in effortlessly chic evening wear lounge on velvet banquettes or perch on brass bar stools, their quiet conversation creating a low, intimate hum that makes my skin tingle.

The library we pass through next is even more impressive. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line every wall, filled with leather-bound volumes in muted jewel tones. A spiral staircase made of wrought iron curves up to a second-level gallery, where more books and intimate seating areas wait in shadowy alcoves. Here, the air smells of leather, old paper, and something spicy and sensual.

Maybe incense?

Or maybe it’s the cologne the gorgeous older man beside the fire is wearing…

I gape at him as we near his table, my mouth falling open as I take in his tousled brown hair with the hint of gray at the temples, broad shoulders, and perfectly tailored suit. He looks like a movie star from a bygone age. and I’m possessed by the certainty that I’d like to sit close to him.

Veryclose.

So close I’d know for sure if that delicious sweet-tobacco, clove, and leather scent was coming from him or the bowls of herbs on the mantel…

As we pass by, his gaze locks with mine for a split second, but that’s all it takes to electrify me from head to toe. My pulse jumps in my throat, my breath catches, and suddenly I’m positive he feels it too, this instant, powerful curiosity.

He wants to know me as much as I want to know him.

And he wouldn’t mind if I pulled up the chair across from his and joined him for a drink…or something more.

A beat later, Raven turns left, and the gorgeous man is behind us, but I swear, I can feel his eyes on me, burning between my shoulder blades, making me keenly aware of my dress’s low back and every inch of bare skin along the hollow of my spine.

Wow…

I never expected anything likethatto happen tonight. Nothing like that haseverhappened to me, not in my entire life. I was beginning to think I wasn’t an “instant chemistry” kind of girl.

But maybe I am.

And maybe sticking around the club after my meeting would be okay, after all…

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