Dirty Rumor: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(19)
It all fades blindly into the background against the beating of my heart.
Ace is so close to me that I could reach out right now and touch his tailored Italian suit. I could reach out right now and undo the buttons of his jacket, slip it off his shoulders, and then do the same with his shirt, and run my hands over the bare skin of his chest, his washboard abs.
My shoulders tense. Where is he going to sit?
Ace puts his hands into his pockets and gives a nod to everyone around the table, then saunters around to the empty seats on the other side, dropping into one like he was born to be there.
My heart shrinks two sizes, and I turn back to Jess, trying to force my face into an expression that doesn’t look like disappointment.
“Sushi?” she says in a low voice, her eyes sparkling.
Ace is already engaged in a boisterous conversation with Jax Hunter. “He had sushi delivered to my place on Wednesday. I ran into him on the elevator and….”
“Did you hook up in the elevator?” Jess squeals, and I shush her.
“Oh, my God, Jess, no.”
“And he sent you food?”
“It was from Sasabune.”
“You love that place.”
“I know.” But how did Ace guess?
“What the hell is he doing now?” Jess says, her forehead wrinkling.
“He’s making it pretty clear that he doesn’t want to associate with me in public.”
“You sure about that?”
I glance across toward Ace’s seat and a jolt of pure heat streaks through me, right to my core. He’s talking to Jax, but his gray eyes are locked on me. When our eyes meet, a shiver runs down my spine.
Shit.
My resolve not to play games with him comes back to me, so I straighten my back and edge my shoulders back. Maybe what he’s doing is putting the ball in my court. I’m the one in charge of how this evening plays out.
My first move?
A slow, wicked grin, my eyes locked on his.
His mouth twitches into a tight-lipped smile, and then he looks away, toward Eli, who has joined in the conversation with a raunchy joke.
Game on.
The conversation swirls around us, but I’m aware of his every movement, so it comes as no surprise when he stands up when a redhead approaches the table in the middle of the concert—the music is loud and poppy and the beat throbs in my veins—to whisper in Ace’s ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but my throat goes dry, and then he’s standing up, offering his arm to her and heading toward the dance floor without a backward glance.
Heat rises to my cheeks, and for a moment all I can do is fumble with the napkin in my lap. Then I snatch up my wine and take two long sips of it.
A nudge at my side catches my attention. “What are you waiting for?” Jess says into my ear.
“Nothing,” I say, putting the wine glass down and standing up.
Ace and the redhead are in the middle of the dance floor, the music blasting out over us as the pop star shimmies across the stage.
I’m almost on top of them when she leans in to say something. The music is loud, so she’s shouting, and I hear, “—what you did to her. Just tell me.”
He turns his face away from her and our eyes meet, and then I’m taking three more confident steps toward him, putting my hand on his arm. “Excuse me,” I say to the redhead. “I’m stepping in for this dance.”
Her mouth drops open, but no words come out. Is she going to scream at me? Cause a scene? Do I care?
No.
The music throbs in my ears.
Then she whirls around and disappears into the crowd and I’m left alone with Ace.
Chapter 18
Ace
It takes everything I have to get up from the table and walk away from Carolyn with the busty redhead who came over to steal me away. It’s hard to hear the whispers about me over the music of the pop-star-of-the-moment, but as I suspected, it’s making me even more irresistible to the women at the Swan tonight. The redhead is the first one to get up the courage to break into the small circle around our table.
I don’t catch her name. It’s not important. The woman I really want to be walking away with is still sitting at the table, watching me leave. I can feel her eyes boring into my back.
Ever since that smile, my skin has been on fire with the need to touch her. My hands ache to slide over the curves of her waist and pull her into me until the length of her is pressed against me. The heat between us is electric, taut, and I feel it every time she glances across the table at me.
But I’m not going to be the one to make the first move. Not tonight.
I’ve left the door open.
She’ll come to me, if that’s what she wants.
Although if she waits much long, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist taking what I want.
We haven’t been dancing for two minutes when the redhead leans in and says something I can’t hear.
“Excuse me?”
“Did you really kill your wife?”
The smile plastered across her face, her glittering eyes, sends a cold spike of adrenaline down to the tips of my fingers. Somehow, this woman learned what the police in Italy suspected. The rumors have finally reached critical mass among world rumor circles.
“No.”