Unravel(8)

Tonight, I represented my own family. My parents were successful in their own right, yet not on the scale of Lana’s family. They were away for the summer, touring Europe. One week would be spent in Italy, the next in the Bavarian Alps, then off to Prague. I was staying with Lana for the entire summer.

I grabbed champagne from a waiter passing by and held it away from my body, knowing that in seconds, someone would accidentally bump into me and I’d spill it on my dress.

The tent was filled to capacity, yet they were still letting people in. I weaved in and out of the crowd, trying to find a single spot that would give me a few inches of space to myself. There was none. I opened my mouth to say something to Lana, but she wasn’t next to me. I turned in a circle, standing on my tiptoes to find her, but it was useless. The crowd had broken us apart.

“Naomi!” Someone called out.

I turned around.

The man walking toward me was Patrick, a friend of my parents. He was bald with gray hair growing out on the sides. Like most people there he was filthy rich, which gave him power. But he had ruddy cheeks and a big smile on his face, and that made him approachable.

“Hello.”

“Have you met the host of tonight’s party?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t.”

“We need to change that!” Patrick turned in a full circle, on the prowl for Max. Finally he gave up, cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted out for the host. Most of the people around us stopped talking long enough to glare at him. Patrick was oblivious and sipped his drink. “That boy… he’s something else.”

Anyone younger than thirty was dubbed “that boy” by Patrick, so this Max couldn’t be too old. But as curious as I was to meet this mystery host, I had to find Lana. She was the only reason I was there. “You know, I don’t have to meet him,” I said. “I’m looking for L—”

“Nonsense,” Patrick interrupted. “It will only take a few minutes.”

He continued to scan the crowd.

“He’s my stockbroker now and it was the best damn decision I’ve made in years!” Patrick said absently. “I had my reservations… yes, I did. Why should I trust this boy to help me invest? But he’s proved me wrong!”

Patrick laughed and finally looked at me.

I smiled politely.

I looked over my shoulder because that’s all I planned on giving this Max. A passing glance, maybe a polite wave hello. That was all.

But that’s not what happened.

What happened was that I looked once and never turned away. I don’t even think I blinked.

There was nothing old about Max. Nothing at all.

He was tall, around six-foot-two. With that height I expected him to be lean, but his white, oxford shirt molded against his shoulders. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and I saw the bluish veins that traveled from his wrist, up his strong forearms. His posture was relaxed, legs crossed, hands tucked into his black dress pants, as he listened to the man next to him.

I could tell you all about the features that made him textbook handsome. I could, but I hardly noticed them myself. All I noticed was the force of his confidence. It shone through his eyes, and his wide smile.

The longer I stood there, the more the room felt like it was closing in on me.

I stood on my tiptoes, peered around a shoulder and took him in.

A pretty redhead leaned in close to him. He smiled at her and scanned the crowd. The whole time I had been staring at him he’d been completely unaware, but then he caught me. Instead of looking away, I boldly stared back.

His brow lifted and his lips curved up into a sexy smirk. He moved away from the table and took a step forward in my direction.

That’s it. Come closer, I beckoned with my eyes.

That smile was for me. He looked right at me. Someone bumped into me, muttered sorry and I waved them off, refusing to look away from him. I felt possessed. I couldn’t look away. Frissons of excitement flowed through me as he walked toward me. If I was feeling this way with him clear across the room, what would it be like standing inches away from him?

“Come here, my boy,” Patrick said.

I jumped and looked over at Patrick. I’d forgotten he was there. Actually, I’d forgotten about everything. Forgotten about the music and laughter and the roomful of people.

“Have you met Naomi?”

I met his gaze head on. I knew I looked calm and in control, but past my dress, my flesh, directly behind my ribs, my heart was pounding like a drum.

Just breathe, Naomi. I told myself. He’s just like every other male.

“No,” he said. There was a playful gleam in his eyes. “I haven’t.”

He held out his hand. He gave me an intimate smile that made me question if we’d met before. Goosebumps broke out. But I would’ve remembered that smile. I would have remembered this feeling. We hadn’t met before.

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

That. Voice.

It was deep, almost hypnotic. He had a southern drawl. He pronounced every word slowly. Just one simple word coming from his lips sounded forbidden.

He smiled at me. It was a slow smile that tugged at his lips and traveled all the way to his eyes. I felt every inch of that smile pierce my heart.

I shook his hand.

My blood was starting to hum. His grip tightened. I went to pull away, but he held on a few seconds longer. Our gazes held. I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever been looked at like that. His eyes pierced me with one thorough look. I felt it go through my body.