Page 16 of Beautifully Wild

I snort quietly. “I’m a visual person. I like to see things with my own eyes. Though some things…” I pause, thinking of when I found out my ex had cheated on me. “Some things I believe if the information comes from a good source.” I glance at Yasmine, thankful to her for having my back.

His eyes never leave my face. Under the heat of his gaze, I’m reminded of the first time I saw him on the beach in Salvador. I’m sure it was him, except the way he acted at the bloco—

“Can I get you another drink?”

I glance down at my empty glass. “Were you in Salvador a few weeks ago?”

“What?”

I glance up. “In Salvador. At the Iemanjá ceremony?” I watch his Adam’s apple bob. “We saw each other, didn’t we?” I’m thankful for the alcohol fueling my courage.

He takes the empty crystal from my fingertips and turns toward the bar. In perfect timing, a waiter walks by with a tray of beverages. Samuel takes a glass of champagne and a beer, swivels back, and hands me the crystal.

“Yes,” he says and takes a swig without looking at me.

I knew it.

“Why were you rude to me at the bloco?”

“Not to you. I didn’t want to be there.”

“You were a grump.”

He smiles into his glass. “I’ve been called worse.”

His gaze lifts and meets mine. There’s something about the different shades of blue in his hues that mesmerizes me, and I struggle to look away. In a moment of contentment, I know Samuel has come into my life for a reason. Judging by his expression, he senses a connection as well. He leans in. I lick my lips and lean closer. His lips are so close to mine—a whisper, a kiss away. What would they feel like on my skin? My neck? My décolletage? I raise one hand to touch his face—

He jerks back.

Freezes.

His eyes dart up to his friends as though he requires backup.

What just happened?

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” He holds one hand up at his friends in farewell.

Shit. He’s not into me?

“Night, man. Sleep well,” Michael shouts.

His friends don’t seem surprised Samuel is leaving.

“It was nice meeting you,” he whispers.

Before he turns away, there’s a flicker of regret in his eyes.

What the actual heck?

“Yeah.” I want to say much more, only the shock of him bailing has words stuck in my dry throat.

I withhold from turning to watch him walk away.

Michael is watching me curiously. “I know his room number if you’re interested.”

Yasmine catches on and gapes, then a smirk creeps over her face. “Go on, Eden.”

“He’s not interested,” I manage to rasp out.

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