Page 4 of Marek

He stares at me so intensely, I’m forced to look down at my glass for a moment to gather myself. “Do you want to?”

What kind of answer is that?

“Answering a question with a question, you’re a tricky one,” I say, gathering myself finally.

His mouth tips up into a half smile and my heart does a stupid jump. I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s completely capable of taking my breath away. I’m usually sassy, strong willed and not easily shaken but this man is shaking me all over. Damn him. He’s spectacular.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” he murmurs, nodding to the bartender who quickly gets him a drink.

“I’ve been dancing since I was a child. Now, I ask again, do I know you, or do you make it a habit of going to watch random girls dancing at shows?”

He lifts the glass, those perfect fingers curling around the base as he brings it to his lips. I’m certain he doesn’t miss my eyes following his every move, watching the way his throat tightens and then releases as he swallows the liquid down. He’s scarily calm and collected, the kind of man I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting before. It’s as if nothing in the world could shake him.

“I enjoy shows,” he answers, his voice thick. “I can’t say I’ve seen someone with your kind of talent.”

That’s flattering, I won’t deny it.

“Thanks.”

“What’s your name?”

I take another sip of my drink and glance at Sasha who is dancing with an incredibly good looking man, their bodies intertwined. She’s having the time of her life.

“Ellie.”

The mystery man tips his head to the side and repeats my name, the word rolling off his tongue in a way that has my groin clenching. Immediate guilt swarms me, because I’ve never had this kind of reaction over a man before, not even my own fiancé.

“Are you going to tell me yours?” I ask, finishing my drink because lord knows I need the distraction.

I can’t take my eyes off those lips.

Don’t get me started on his eyes.

“Marek,” he answers, his accent strong as he lets his name escape his perfect damn mouth.

That’s a very unique name.

I like it.

“Another drink.”

Marek simply waves his hand, and the bartender drops what he’s doing and gets him another drink. Then, he gets me one, too.

“I can get my own drinks,” I say defiantly, as I flash my ring in his direction.

His eyes drop to it, but he doesn’t seem at all bothered by the very loud and obvious sign that I’m taken sitting on my finger.

“I would have gotten you a nicer one.”

His statement shocks me so much I can’t answer him. Instead, I simply gape, dumbfounded by this man who has swooped in and effectively stunned me.

I’m only distracted by my phone buzzing on the bar beside me. Quickly, I pick it up and see a message from Carter asking what time I’ll be home. I respond that I’ll be back soon and put my phone back into my purse. Glancing up, I see Marek still standing there, still staring at me with that intense gaze.

“Are you this intense with everyone you meet or am I just the lucky one?” I ask, taking the drink and swallowing a lot more than I should in one mouthful.

It burns as it goes down.

“I see I’m making you nervous,” he answers, voice smooth as ice.

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