7. -6- #2
Her grey-blue eyes sparked, and she playfully slapped my chest, giggling more at my audacity to provoke Zyon than at the flirtatious remark.
She knew I would never touch her with the intention to claim her or suggest anything inappropriate.
She was off limits, but it wouldn’t stop me from making fun of my possessive older brother, who hauled her to his side like he worried I would steal her from under his nose.
“Cut the nonsense, Dorian,” Zyon rumbled, glaring at me. He extended his arm for a shake, but I pretended to hesitate.
“If I accept,” I pointed at his hand, “you wouldn’t…” I showed the scissors with my index and middle fingers, acting terrified. He exhaled exasperatedly, like he hadn’t lived with me for the past forty years and didn’t know my shenanigans.
“No, he wouldn’t,” Valeria reassured, caressing his bicep through the fabric of his expensive, three-piece, black suit. So, I hesitantly accepted a congratulatory hug and a warning to stop flirting with his wife, or I would lose my fingers. Good old Zyon and his jealousy.
We moved to the buffet tables, chatting and laughing.
Mom and a few friends joined us, contributing to the discussion about the charity projects Mom started.
We talked about options to raise more money from the rich and encourage them to participate willingly.
Mom had terrific ideas, but they required time and preparation.
Organizing a ball, an auction, or a friendly baseball match wasn’t easy.
But I was ecstatic and grateful she wanted to help me pay for the treatment for those who couldn’t afford it.
Munching on a third piece of a scrumptious raspberry cake, I listened to Zyon describing the new complex he planned to build with a five-star hotel, casino, and club, when someone else stole my focus.
The waterfall of dark hair appeared in my line of view at the champagne fountain, and my eyes zoomed in on it, watching as it fell in perfect waves on a slim, naked female back.
The bold back opening of her floor-length gown, smothered in glitter, gave me a fantastic view of her slender shoulders, thin but toned arms, and a tattoo that peeked from under her hair.
Her tanned skin contrasted with the black material of her dress as I traced the fabric sliding down her side to barely cover her cute little ass.
I moved the fork with cake to my lips like a robot, hypnotized by the delicious sight.
The woman shifted slightly to the side, tossing her hair back as she reached for the plate.
I couldn’t see her face, but a pleasurable shiver ran down my spine immediately when I noticed her long nails.
My skin erupted in goosebumps just from the thought of them slowly scratching my back.
“You’re drooling,” Malin said from behind me, waking me up from my fantasy about the unknown woman’s hands. I turned to him, noticing an amused spark in his usually deadly eyes.
“You know who she is?” I asked casually, pretending to pick something else to eat, but my eyes constantly jumped to the woman who spoke with some tall, blond guy who looked like he just walked out of a fairy tale.
Fucking blondes and their dimples. They always stole the show. I should stop by and give them a taste of my dark charm. Some curly yellow chicken wouldn’t be an issue.
“Nina Valentino,” Malin replied firmly, his gaze glued to my surprised face. He knew that would give me a minor heart attack.
Valentino was a name I never wanted to hear again in my life.
I voted for killing Lorenzo and driving his family members out of the state.
But Zyon disagreed, and Malin took his side.
The Valentino family had ties to a Russian diplomat who could get Ramzan, our youngest brother, from a Russian prison.
As much as I loved the troublemaker, I would rather find another way to free him than cut a deal with the snakes, but again, Zyon offered a different perspective.
The family matters were his responsibility, so I submitted to his decision.
It didn’t mean I accepted it, though. But causing a scene at my party by kicking Nina’s cute ass out of here was below me.
So instead, I directed the conversation elsewhere.
“That’s Nina?” I pointed a fork at her. “That gifted teenager who played piano like a little Mozart?”
“You mean better than you?” Malin teased, enjoying the roll of my eyes. “Yeah, that’s her.”
“Better than me,” I mumbled, watching Nina’s stunning figure as she gracefully circled the buffet table, shoulders squared, chin slightly lifted, and eyes scanning the room confidently.
Her steps were slow but measured, perfectly balanced.
Her hips swayed subtly, complementing her slender body as she held herself like a queen.
“Isn’t she a little young?” Malin again interrupted my shameless ogling. A barely audible chuckle escaped his lips while his glance pierced Nina’s skull.
“I’m not interested,” I lied through my teeth, studying the blond man who accompanied her. It could be one of the Colapino boys. His face resembled his father’s, but the hair and height confused me. “Who’s the guy?”
“Lucas Colapino,” Malin confirmed my assumption, adding a few details, but I didn’t pay attention because, as if feeling my scrutinizing gaze, Nina turned and looked at me.
Our eyes locked over the long buffet table, and a buzz of electricity shot through me, ending somewhere in my lower abdomen.
My heart fluttered into overdrive as her intense look held me captive.
The invisible ropes darted from her dark eyes, momentarily freezing me in the moment.
My gaze landed on her gorgeous face, bold makeup accentuating her high cheekbones and adorable little nose.
Smokey eyeshadow magnified the impact of her fierce eyes, and dark brown lipstick defined her plump lips.
Bloody hell, she was astonishing.
“Dorian.”
Malin’s sing-song voice pierced my ears like thunder striking right above my head. The mockery in his tone instantly woke me up from my reverie.
“What?” I blinked innocently, digging my fork into the cake. My brother dispersed the spell the little witch had cast on me, and when I looked in her direction, she was gone.
“She is sixteen years younger than you, and her last name is Valentino,” he lectured, snatching the plate from my hand. “Enough sugar. You have idiotic ideas when you overeat that poison.”
“I love it when you care for me, sunshine.” I winked at him, earning an elbow to my full stomach. I chuckled, circling the champagne in my glass, but he was right; everyone with the surname Valentino was off-limits.
Still, I’d never been good at following rules regarding gorgeous women.