Page 6 of The Invitation

I swallow, head down, perplexed.

Breathless.

Intrigued.

The pull becomes too much, and I lift my eyes, both greedy and wary of taking in more.

I’m staring again.

And he’s quite amused.

But can I stop myself?

His phone rings, and he reaches for it on the bar, never taking his eyes off me. I feel like this has turned into a challenge. Who looks away first. He answers the call, his blazing gaze still on me, and then he talks. I very nearly puddle to the damn floor, his deep, even tone slicing through my remaining sensibility and taking my dignity with it. Because I’m still bloody staring at him while he listens to whoever’s on the other end of the line. Eyesstillon me.

“Sure,” he says. “I’m free in half an hour. Meet me in the Library Bar.” He hangs up. Almost smiles, but not quite.

I’m done.

I quit.

I lose.

I look awayandback away.

“Do I know you?” he calls, stopping me.

No, I’m just staring at you because you’re fucking beautiful.“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t.”

And what do I say to that?

I cock my head, every intellectual piece of me failing.

“Hey, birthday girl,” I hear Abbie call, and I look back to see her on the threshold of the bar giving me grabby hands. “Come on, come on, we have an aromatherapy body wrap waiting for us.”

“I’m coming,” I say, watching her run back to Charley, excited.

I don’t look at Mr. Handsome again, worried my eyes will explode in my head if I do. So I wander away, frowning at the tingling sensation all over my skin.

“Enjoy your body wrap, birthday girl,” he calls softly, forcing me to a stop.

My eyes dart before me. “Thanks.”

“And happy birthday.”

I turn, my smile curious and unsure. “Thanks.”

He leans his forearms on the bar. What is it with the fucking eye contact?

“I should go.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, laughing.I’m literally paralysed by your fucking eyes, you good-looking bastard.I don’t think I’ve ever been under such close scrutiny.

Holding his hands up in surrender, he smirks very mildly. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I note that his hands are perfect too. Perfectly big. Perfectly formed. Perfectly capable?No ring.

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