Page 4 of One Naughty Night (Single in South Beach)

She snagged a fresh pre-poured glass off the champagne fountain at one end of the bar. As part of ladies’ night, the Moulin Rouge Lounge offered free champagne during the hour before midnight according to a sign in the lobby. She’d had a glass a few minutes ago, but the nervousness chugging through her and the tingly awareness of the man standing next to her urged her to indulge in a little more. Between the rapid pounding of her heart and the swift whoosh of air in and out of her lungs, the sedative effects of alcohol would be welcome right about now.

“Hugh Duncan.” She observed him carefully, wondering if she’d misunderstood him earlier. “Isn’t that you?”

He was quiet for so long, she hesitated before sipping her champagne.

“I’m sorry. Are you not my date tonight?” A wave of nervousness threaded through her. She’d be a little bit embarrassed at this point if he wasn’t.

He reached for her glass just as she put it to her lips, covering her hand with his own, effectively seizing the drink and awakening a long slumberous desire she hadn’t known she’d harbored until just this very moment.

“Why don’t you let me get you a fresh drink?” He leaned closer as he spoke in soft, serious tones. The gesture was at once totally innocent and thoroughly intimate. His dark eyes cut through the shifting blue and red lights, making the rest of the noisy club disappear for one heated moment. “And I am most definitely your date tonight, Esme Giles.”

ChapterTwo

Renzo eased the champagne flute from Esme’s hand slowly, not wishing to scare her away by appearing too domineering. Didn’t she know the dangers of picking up a pre-poured glass of anything in a crowded nightclub?

He’d have to talk to Giselle about getting rid of those filled glasses on top of the champagne fountain. The drinks were perched in a place where anyone could have access to them— not a good set-up when date-rape drugs were so widespread. It took half a second for someone to drug a drink, a stat savvy club goers kept in mind.

Not Esme Giles.

Her brand of innocence could be downright dangerous.

Applying light pressure to the small of her back, Renzo nudged her toward the table he’d staked out for himself. Over her head, he crooked his finger at one of Giselle’s waitresses.

“What can I get you to drink?” He rolled out the Cesare charm, needing to keep Esme entertained and out of circulation in the lounge. “My sister is something of a food and drink wizard and she works in the back. How about if I ask her to prepare us something a little more exotic?”

Esme seemed to weigh the idea for a moment. Then she smiled up at him in a half-cocked grin that struck him as a rusty movement. “Yes. Absolutely. Exotic is exactly what I’m looking for tonight.”

The gleam in her eyes, coupled with the purr in her voice reached right inside him, tempting him.

If she’d made the same comment to the barfly who’d tried to corner her before, the guy would have hustled her out of the club and back to his room in five minutes flat.

Apparently Esme had no sense of how to protect herself in the bar scene.

And although Renzo hadn’t intended to misrepresent himself tonight, he also wasn’t about to allow Esme to wander the club alone looking for her idiotic blind date.

What kind of moron lured an innocent woman into the most scandal-ridden hotspot in South Beach? A guy who didn’t deserve her, that much was for damn sure. For that matter, maybe this Hugh person had sleazy intentions.

In which case, Renzo definitely wasn’t going to let him have a shot with her.

As he and Esme slid into the seats of the round booth in the back corner, Renzo asked the waitress for a couple of Good Fortune Potions, Giselle’s most recent creation.

He’d simply enjoy a drink with Esme until he could put her safely into an Uber back home. Surely he could justify not telling her the truth since he was only protecting her. It’s not like he had designs on her for himself.

Still, in an effort to forestall any questions about himself, Renzo thought he’d better

take the conversational lead.

“Esme is a great name.” Okay, admittedly his dating small-talk skills were out of practice. But this wasn’t his scene any more than it was hers.

“Short for Esmerelda, but that’s a bit of a mouthful.” She peered around the club from the safe haven of their table, her dark blue eyes absorbing the action with the passive interest of a woman accustomed to observing life rather than taking part. “My mother thought if she gave her daughter an unusual name I would eventually live up to it.” Esme gave a shrug, her exposed shoulder . “But no luck so far. I’m an out of work art historian with an interest in antiques. Not exactly the outgoing and adventurous type.”

Renzo allowed his gaze to wander over her again with this new information in mind. But his eye was distracted by the shadow of her body beneath her dress and the. . .

Holy hell.

She was naked underneath that dress.

Thank you, God, he wasn’t in the middle of taking a drink or he would have spewed it for sure. Luckily the waitress chose to make a reappearance just then, bringing with her a tray laden with the exotic concoction his sister had demanded he taste just last night for the first time. The blend of fruit juices, rum and who knows what else, garnished by a fortune cookie had been delicious.

---