CHAPTER 1 #2
At last, Devon ended the kiss, no thanks to Sylvia, who was now whispering something in his ear, stroking the button at his waistband. Devon placed his palm over hers, squeezing, then removed her hand, his dimples flashing as he smiled down at her.
“I believe introductions are in order.” He motioned toward the black-haired man, who had a disconcerting poker face.
“This is Ryan.” He then pointed to the blond look-alike of the man who had captivated Claire.
“That, there, is Adam. Both are taken.” He winked at Sylvia.
“Just in case you had more wild ideas.” He leaned close, his lips brushing her earlobe, murmuring something that made Sylvia smile provocatively.
“And this, here, is Jonathan, our jilted groom.”
Jonathan scowled. A muscle ticked at his jaw, no doubt because of the revealing introduction. If it was true that he’d been left at the altar, and Claire saw no reason to doubt it, she felt awful for the poor guy. That would explain a lot about the interaction she had witnessed between these men.
“Jilted?” Sylvia’s eyes widened. “Tell me that was a joke.”
“Nope.” Devon clapped Jonathan’s shoulder. “Alas, it wasn’t meant to be for our buddy.”
“Ooh.” Interest sparked in Sylvia’s eyes, and Claire knew exactly what her friend was contemplating. So did the blond man, apparently, for his lips twitched, then curved into a smirk as his unwavering gaze continued to laser in on Claire.
She realized that Devon had failed to introduce him. What was his name? She very much wanted to know.
Her gaze dipped to his open collar, her breathing quickening at the sight. What did he smell like? She wanted to grip the points of that starched shirt, yank it open, and bury her nose there.
My God, what had come over her?
Never in her life had she entertained such thoughts about a stranger.
A stranger who was hotter than lava and who was now mirroring her, she realized, because those eyes of his were definitely undressing her, lingering on her cleavage.
Just when she thought she’d melt under his stare, he rose from his barstool, and Claire’s mouth went dry as she watched him pick up his glass and start toward her.
Good Lord, even the way he moved was sexy.
The next instant, there he was, towering over her, and that was saying something because she wasn’t short by any means.
“It’s Ian,” he said.
His rich voice reminded her of the soothing speaker on a meditation tape.
Up close, his eyes were the most unique shade of dark blue she’d ever seen. “E … excuse me?”
Great, she was stammering like a fool.
“My name is Ian.” He smiled at her but didn’t make any move to touch her. “You wanted to know.”
“I did?” She blinked and looked up into his impossibly handsome face. He was correct, of course, but the notion that she was so easy to read unnerved her.
Hell, he unnerved her.
“You did. Your beautiful green eyes told me so.” He moved a little closer, and she swore she felt his body heat. Or maybe it was her own body heating up like a stoked furnace because she was suddenly burning.
Dimly, she heard banter, then boisterous laughter as Sylvia chatted up the other two men, but for Claire, it was as if everyone else had disappeared.
Leaving only herself and Ian, whose heated gaze threatened to devour her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Claire.” He held out his free hand. She took it and felt her eyes drift shut as an electric current surged from the point of contact to every extremity.
“Likewise,” she murmured.
She’d heard of this instant attraction thing but had believed it to be a myth. Now, it was happening to her. She couldn’t deny it, and it was thrilling.
Claire tried to withdraw her hand, but he held fast.
“Tell me.” His blue eyes twinkled, and the backs of her knees almost gave out.
He paused. She waited.
“That polar bear line …” His lips twitched, and butterflies flitted in her chest at the beauty of them up close. “I’ve never heard that one before. Does she deploy it often?”
She would have laughed, except that he began stroking her palm with his thumb.
She swallowed. “First time I’ve ever heard it. Pretty creative, though, don’t you think?”
“If you like corny.” His mouth curved into a sexy smirk. “Don’t you just hate having pickup lines used on you?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t had that many chances to be on the receiving end.”
“Ah. So, your presence here is an extreme stroke of luck for me tonight.”
Her pulse rocketed at the suggestive note in his voice. He fingered her hand in a way that bordered on obscene.
Claire swallowed back a gasp. “That would depend.”
He picked up his snifter with his free hand and slowly sipped his drink, which she assumed was cognac.
“On what?”
“On your definition of luck.”
“This is Las Vegas. Luck is subject to interpretation and can take oh-so-many forms.” He let go of her hand and half turned toward the bartender. “What were you drinking?”
She made a dismissive gesture. “Just ginger ale and lemon.”
One brow arched. “No vodka or gin in it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t really drink.”
“She doesn’t really drink.” He shook his head, looking bemused. “You either are a teetotaler or you aren’t. Kind of like being pregnant.”
His gaze was steady penetration.
Claire shifted on her barstool. “I drink a glass of champagne now and then on special occasions, and that’s about it.”
“Yet, here you are, in a bar with your slightly inebriated friend. I guess I was doubly lucky, then, to come upon you here.”
I’d like to come upon you.
Claire’s eyes widened at her own dirty thought.
He set down his glass, then turned to catch the bartender’s eye. “Bottle of Dom Pérignon Rosé, please, Justin. The 2009, if you can find one.”
“Good choice.” The bartender beamed. “You got it, Mr. Larssen.”
Larssen. Decidedly Scandinavian, just like her mom. She wondered if he was Swedish or Norwegian.
It didn’t matter. First names would be enough tonight. And speaking of names, how did the bartender know him?
“You’re ordering champagne?”
“I am. For us.”
A nervous laugh escaped her. “There’s an us?”
“There will be.” He sounded certain. “Have you eaten? The restaurant upstairs is excellent.”
“I already had dinner. And I can’t. I’m here with Sylvia. She needs me.”
“Does she?” One eyebrow spiked. He turned to look and smirked.
Sylvia practically rode Devon’s lap while saying something to Jonathan, who stared at her intently.
Adam, the one who looked like Ian, now held the hand of a gorgeous petite brunette who devoured him with her eyes, and Ryan, the one with black hair and the stern face, had his arm around a tall, stunning blonde.
“They seem to be all set,” Ian said, his sharp gaze narrowing on Sylvia’s hand, which was on Jonathan’s thigh and sliding steadily higher. “She’s in good hands, I promise. Four hands, from the looks of it. But if you say she needs you …”
“No!” Claire hastily said, her already warm cheeks flaming at his insinuation. “No, I … no. I’m not into …”
His smile was wicked. “Foursomes?”
She shook her head, temporarily speechless.
“How do you know?” he asked.
“How do I know …?”
How had the conversation turned to this?
His knowing, hooded gaze caught hers. “How do you know you’re not into foursomes if you’ve never participated in one?”
She should tell him that it was none of his business, then get up and leave, but something made her stay and take another swallow of her drink. “What makes you so sure I haven’t?”
He paused, his glass halfway to his lips. “You have that good-girl vibe all over you. Plus, you practically ran screaming at the mere mention. You,” he declared, “have only been with one man at a time.”
“What about you?” Claire didn’t detect judgment in his tone or expression, but she needed to give as good as she got.
“Me?” A corner of his gorgeous mouth curved in a sexy smile.
Heart hammering, she waited for his reply.
He ran his thumb up the curve of his glass. “What do you want to know?”
She dragged her gaze away from his thumb and noted he had long fingers with well-groomed nails. “Have you only been with one woman at a time?”
His answering smile was slow and wicked. “Let’s just say I’m trisexual.”
Her jaw dropped.
The teasing twinkle in his eyes was devastating. “I’ll try anything once.”
“Oh.” Maybe that’s what he wanted tonight? She swallowed back her disappointment. This might have to end before it even started.
“Want to know a secret?” He leaned forward, his fathomless blue eyes never leaving hers. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “How so?”
“Too distracting. I prefer to focus my attention on one person. Sex is a lot more satisfying for me that way.”
“I see.” Her voice sounded strangely breathy. Just the way he said the word sex sent a pulse through her lower belly.
He reached to trail a fingertip over her knuckles, back and forth, his eyes twinkling as he saw her start, her breath quickening in response. “Watching a woman respond to what you’re doing to her is half the high.”
Oh God.
She didn’t have a verbal response to that, but her body …
“What do you say we go somewhere more private?” he asked in that soothing voice that seemed to wrap around her like dark silk.
She stared at him. Dared she do this? “What did you have in mind?”
His smile was slow, eyes blue fire. “Looking at you in that green dress, I have so many things in my mind that it’s close to spinning. Are you staying at this hotel?”
She shook her head. “Are you?”
He contemplated for a beat. “Give me a minute.”
He pulled out his phone and quickly typed a text. Not fifteen seconds later, he nodded, smiling at the screen. “Now I am.” He caught and held her gaze, and she stared into those eyes, letting herself get lost in their blue depths. “Staying at this hotel, that is.”
“Just like that,” she murmured.
“Yup. Just like that. Full disclosure: I have an in with the owner.” His smile was so mischievous and beautiful that her heart did a little flip.