7. Aria #3
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. Whatever civility he’d walked in with was clearly about to fly out the window. “You’re back to telling me how to behave? Do I get a cookie when I finally do what you want or are you going to pat my head and call me a good boy?”
My mouth fell open. I wracked my brain, trying to come up with something cutting to say, but my brain was still stuck on the fact that he’d actually said those words. Sebastian was anything but a good boy, if that was even the right phrase. He was bad. So, so bad.
“Nothing to say now, huh?”
My brain finally recovered. “You had no right to say that to me. That’s another thing you need to apologize for.”
He scoffed. “Oh, it’s going to be a cold day in hell before I…”
“Admit you’re wrong, Sebastian.”
“No.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away. “You’re such a child.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” He stepped in front of me, effectively blocking my path. “You don’t think you’ve also done some questionable things? You’re no saint either, Miss Kealoha.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not as bad as you, Mr. Dubois.”
He took a step closer, I took one toward him. I wasn’t about to let him think he was going to intimidate me. Besides, the gala seemed to be kicking off well. People would be too distracted by the food, music, and flowers to even notice what was going on between me and Sebastian.
“Really? Tell me, what exactly am I? How devilish am I that you never turn down an opportunity to tell me?”
“Oh, I have a lot to say. For starters, you’re terribly arrogant. You think you know everything. Just because you’re good-looking doesn’t make you God's gift to humanity.”
He grinned. My eyes widened. I finally heard the words that had just left my mouth. “So, you find me attractive.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I mean… you just said so yourself. Is that why you’re so rigid when I come around? I’m so good-looking that you have to keep yourself away from me?”
I shot him a dirty look. My eyes finally drifted from his and scanned the room. “Where’s your daughter? Shouldn’t you be watching her every move?”
“She’s with Priya. And you haven’t answered my question.” I didn’t say anything. What could I possibly say to dig myself out of the hole I’d crawled into? That’s right. Absolutely nothing.
And then, something very strange happened. Sebastian’s eyes dropped lower, to my nose, then my lips, landing on the neckline of my dress before snapping back up.
"Green is a good color on you, by the way."
What is happening right now? Did I stumble into some sort of alternate universe, or did Sebastian Dubois just give me a compliment? "You shouldn’t say stuff like that."
His grin widened. "Why not? You complimented my looks, I complimented your dress. We're even."
"I didn't compliment your looks."
"Right. Of course you didn’t."
I opened my mouth to argue, but what was I going to say? He was right. I had acknowledged his looks, built up his already inflated ego. Damn him.
We stared at each other. The air between us had shifted, crackling with something that wasn't quite hostility anymore. Something that felt more dangerous.
I became suddenly aware of the breadth of his shoulders under that perfectly fitted jacket. The sharp line of his jaw, shadowed with the faintest hint of stubble. The intensity in his pale eyes, fixed on me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
My pulse picked up. Not from anger.
He noticed. I watched him notice, watched his gaze drop to my throat where my heart was beating visibly against my skin, then lower—just for a second—to the neckline of my dress again. His lips parted slightly, his brow quirking up by a fraction.
Heat flooded through me. Entirely uninvited. Entirely unwelcome.
I stepped back.
"Excuse me." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "I have donors to attend to."
I turned and walked away before he could respond. My heels clicked against the concrete floor, too loud in my own ears despite the buzz of sound in the room. I could feel his gaze on my back, tracking my progress.
Nalani intercepted me near the silent auction, her expression sharp with curiosity.
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That." She gestured vaguely toward where I'd left Sebastian standing. "That looked intense. That looked like the kind of intense that ends with either a fistfight or…"
"Don't."
"I'm just saying. The tension between you two could power a small city." She fell into step beside me. "You're flushed."
"It's warm in here."
"It's climate-controlled to exactly sixty-eight degrees."
"Then I'm having a hot flash."
"You're twenty-nine."
"Early onset."
Nalani laughed, low and knowing. "Okay. Sure. Whatever you say." She peeled off toward the bar, but not before throwing one last comment over her shoulder: "You should see your face right now. You're lit up like a Christmas tree."
Not lit up. Burning.
And the source of the fire was standing thirty feet away in a charcoal suit, watching me with eyes that saw too much.
I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and drained half of it in one swallow.
This was a problem.
This was a very big problem.
And I had absolutely no idea what to do about it.