Gentleman Sinner(25)

I slip on my sunglasses, hoping they will help offer some protection from his burning cobalt eyes, and take a seat on the opposite side of the table. He slides a glass across the table to me. ‘Water?’ I ask.

‘Yes.’

On an inhale, I stop a waiter as he passes. ‘A vodka tonic, please,’ I say confidently, returning my attention to Theo. ‘He’s paying.’ His jaw is beyond tight, his eyes burning holes in me. ‘Be careful.’ I smile sweetly. ‘You’ll burn this cover-up off with that filthy look, and we can’t have that, can we?’

He reaches for my sunglasses, dragging them gently away from my face. I pull in a small hitch of breath, freezing in my chair, my sass shot down. ‘I want to see your eyes so I know what you’re thinking past this brave front.’ He lays them gently on the table and places his own pair of shades down next to them.

‘Business?’ I ask sardonically.

‘Yes, business. Why didn’t you tell me you were going on holiday?’

‘It’s none of your business.’ I’m polite but straight, though bubbling on the inside with annoyance. ‘You’re just a man who asked me out for dinner. That’s it. I don’t owe you an explanation for my plans.’

‘I am not just a man, Izzy.’

‘You are to me,’ I retort, knowing resistance is the best way forward, even though Theo’s flash of hurt actually bothers me. My vodka lands on the table, and I grasp it with both hands as Theo shoves a note at the waiter, not even looking at him. ‘I’m on holiday with a friend,’ I say. ‘It’s been in the making for years, so I would be grateful if you didn’t ruin it.’

‘It’ll only be ruined if you let it be ruined.’

I peek up through my lashes. ‘What do you mean?’

He sits forward in his chair, coming closer. The seriousness on his face is a cause for concern. ‘I mean, I’ll promise not to bother you again. I’ll let you have your girlie break. But you have to promise me dinner.’

I laugh at his cheekiness. ‘You’ll let me have my girlie holiday?’

He nods, not seeing the hilarity of his statement.

‘Why thanks, stranger.’

‘Have dinner with me.’

‘No.’

‘I’ve come a long way. The least you can do is give me dinner in return.’

Business my arse. ‘I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask you to pursue me like some weirdo. Jesus, Theo. Don’t you see how stalkerish this is?’

His teeth sink into his bottom lip in contemplation as he studies me. ‘Stop playing games, Izzy. My patience is already stretched.’

My jaw locks in an attempt to stop it from dropping in disbelief. ‘I’ll have dinner with you.’ I stand, disgusted by his behaviour, now just wanting to get away before that disgust transforms into something else that’s far less easy to cope with. Like lust. Like desire. Just like Theo’s approach to me, my feelings are contradictory. One second, I’m wary of him, the next I’m mentally stripping his clothes off. ‘I’ll call you when I’m home.’ I pass him but get no farther than two steps. His hand shoots towards me, stopping me in my tracks, though he doesn’t actually make contact. I look down at it hovering a few inches from my wrist, and then look up to Theo.

‘I need to touch you,’ he whispers, slowly reaching for me and seizing my wrist, wrapping his big fingers completely around it.

I concentrate on taking deep breaths. His touch. Oh, God, his touch. It’s like an intense, deep warmth that starts in one spot before spreading in every direction across my skin like cracking glass. Need? He needs to touch me?

Theo watches his hand on my arm, his face thoughtful, with a definite hint of intrigue. ‘Tonight at eight,’ he says, his polite order leaving me no choice but to look at him. He’s gazing up at me, waiting, his blue eyes shining with . . . hope?

‘Here?’ I ask. ‘You want me to have dinner with you here in Vegas?’

‘I’m staying at the Bellagio. Call me when you arrive, and I’ll have Callum meet you at Reception.’ He stands and moves in closer, dipping and kissing my cheek tenderly as his palm strokes over the curve of my arse. Tingles flutter across my skin, tickling me deliciously. It makes me panic, and I engage the muscles in my arms to lift and push him away. My hands come up, but they don’t connect with his torso. Theo catches my wrists, stopping me from touching him once again, predicting my move. ‘Don’t let me down, Izzy.’

He turns and is strolling away from me before I can even think to object. I immediately have to sit down again to collect myself. The lingering feel of his soft bristle on my face and his breath spreading across my cheek resonates as I watch his long, thick legs take steady strides. He moves with effortless grace for such a huge man, weaving through the crowds without even a brush of contact to a single person.

My heart is going loopy, my fingers clawed into the arms of the chair. It takes a good ten minutes of pulling myself together in my seat before I chance standing, lifting myself slowly to ensure my stability. He does this to me. He tosses me into ineptness, and no matter how hard I try to cling to my clear and stable frame of mind, I’m destined to fail each time. Theo has a hold of me and he hasn’t even really had a hold of me. Not a proper hold. Where will I be then, if my mind is already consumed by the thought of him all over me, making love to me, his mouth touching every inch of my body? It’s the most vivid fantasy I’ve ever had. And the most dangerous. What’s worse, I know it will be as mind-blowing as I’m imagining it to be – so intense and overwhelming. I don’t even know him . . . yet I feel like I do.