Misconduct(5)

He snorted but made no move to take my hands away.

“You’re a lawyer,” I finally stated.

He squinted his eyes, regarding me. “You seem to know a lot about men’s belts,” he observed, “and how to spot money.”

I almost rolled my eyes. He either thought I was a debutante, used to expensive things, or a woman on the prowl for a rich man.

I was neither.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him, leaning back against the railing. “If you’re lucky enough to get anything out of me, it will come free.”

His body tensed, and he tilted his chin up, looking at me like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with me. I dropped my eyes, grinding my fingers into my palms and trying to calm my nerves.

Why did I say that?

We weren’t in a bar, where it would be assumed that if we got along we might go home together. He was flirting, and I was flirting, but I shouldn’t have been so forward.

Even if it was what I wanted.

I may not do relationships, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like to lose myself in someone for a night. And it had been too long.

He stepped up, and my breath caught when he positioned himself in front of me, planting his hands on the railing at my sides.

Leaning down into my space, he spoke softly. “For such a young woman, you have quite a mouth on you.”

And then his eyes fell to my lips, and my knees nearly buckled.

“I can stop if you want,” I taunted in a quiet voice.

But he grinned. “Now, what fun would that be?” he shot back, still staring at my mouth.

I inhaled, bringing the scent of him into my lungs as my brain turned fuzzy with the aromas of spice and sandalwood.

“Tell me,” he started, “if I’m a lawyer, how do you know that?”

“Well.” I straightened. “Your nails are clean, so you don’t work in labor,” I pointed out, nudging my way out of his hold and walking past him to the stone vase filled with flowers. “Your clothes are designer and tailored, so you make money.” I looked him up and down, taking in his appearance. “And it’s New Orleans. You can’t walk two feet without bumping into a lawyer or a law student.”

I drew the flower petals between my fingers, feeling their silky softness as I sensed him approach my side.

“Keep going,” he insisted. “What brought me here tonight, then?”

My jaw tingled with a smile. He liked to play.

That was odd, actually. I wasn’t used to men who knew how to keep my attention.

“You were forced,” I answered, thinking about the man I wanted him to be. Not one of those stuffy men inside, smoking cigars and patting themselves on the back. I wanted him to be different.

I went on. “You don’t really know any of these people, and they don’t know you, do they?” I ventured. “You felt obligated to attend tonight due to family pressure or maybe by your boss’s request.”

He watched me, a hint of something I couldn’t place in his eyes.

“You’re just waiting,” I continued, “trying to determine when you can politely abandon the uptight political conversations, bad food, and roomful of people you can’t stand.”

He leaned against the railing again, regarding me as he listened.

“You’re restless,” I stated. “There are other things you wish you could be doing right now, but you’re not sure you should or you’re not sure they’re things you can have.” I raised my eyes, meeting his.

He stared back in silence, and I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking.

Of course, I’d been describing myself this whole time, but his gaze was locked on me, never breaking eye contact.

I moved closer to him, the February chill finally catching up with me.

“What will I do when I leave tonight?” he asked.

“You won’t leave alone,” I determined. “A man like you probably didn’t arrive alone.”

He cocked an eyebrow, challenging me, but he didn’t deny it.

I stared at him, waiting for his admission. Was he here with someone? Was he bold enough to come on to me with another woman around?

He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t attached.

“And you?” He reached out and took a lock of my hair between his fingers. “Who are you here with?”

I thought about my brother, who’d probably been calling me, since I’d felt my phone vibrate twice.

“Never mind,” he refuted. “I don’t want to know yet.”

“Why?”

“Because…” He looked up, focusing over my head out in the distance. “You distract me, and I like it. I’m having fun.”

Yeah, I was, too. For the first time all night.

Attendees laughed and danced inside, while the two of us, alone in the cold night with only a few other people lounging around the large balcony, carried on with our stolen moment.

“I should really get back, though,” I suggested, pulling away.

My brother was no doubt looking for me.

But he reached out and grabbed my hand, narrowing his eyes. “Not yet,” he urged, looking behind me toward the ballroom.

I stopped, not making a move to take away my hand.

He stood in front of me, his chest nearly touching mine.