Page 25 of Bloodlust

"Perhaps." I feign a smile. "Why don't you tell me aboutyourself, Malik?" I reach for the bottle of champagne and two flutes. "I'd like to know more about the man I might be crawling in bed with." I pause. "Figuratively speaking, of course."

"Where to start?" He laughs, popping the champagne, the head of the bottle foaming with bubbles. "I was born in?—"

Men are like champagne. Shake 'em up, and they'll burst with everything you need to know.

Thankfully, the drive to the Waldorf-Astoria doesn't take long. I'm a good actress. Great even but I can only pretend to be interested for so long. The man doesn't shut up. In the short time we've spent together, I've learned all about his family, his hobbies, and where he likes to hide his profits. It's ridiculous. I barely know him, and he's spilling all his secrets. It's like I'm his damn therapist.

Therapist.

Shit.

I forgot about that.

"Shall we?" Malik holds out his hand as I step out ofthe limo. A light breeze blows through my hair. "I have never attended a banquet for an aquarium before. Will there be food? I'm starving."

"Oh, yeah," I mumble as we head inside the hotel. "There's usually a lovely selection ofseafood."

"Really?" He beams. "I can't wait!"

I blink at him. "That was a joke."

He frowns. "I don't get it."

"Forget it," I sigh as we reach the ballroom. I scan the seating chart, looking for my table. Thirteen. How unfortunate. "Our table is over here."

"Lead the way." Malik reaches for my hand as we maneuver through the crowds. "Do you know people here?"

"Not really." I scan the tables, looking for a particular set of green eyes.

Where are you, doc?

Malik frowns as we reach our table. "You don't know anyone here and you were planning on attending alone?"

I glance over my shoulder at Frankie, who's lingering by the hors d'oeuvres. "I'm never really alone."

"Still..." He shakes his head as he pulls out my chair. "A woman should always have an escort."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Well, thankGodyou're here then, right?"

"Yes," he says, sitting down beside me. "It seems as though fate brought me to you right when you needed me the most." He looks around at the other six guests at our table. "Good evening everyone, I am Malik Alba, how do you do?"

Excellent. Now he has six other souls to irritate for the time being.

"Finally," I say under my breath as a server hands me a flute.

Elegant notes of string music float through the room as I subtly check the tables again. There are lots of familiar faces. I don't know their names. I don't come here to make friends or business partners. No. I come here because...it's a part of him. The love of the ocean. Maybe I should stop. I will. Soon. I'll?—

Ice.

My body freezes as a cold front encapsulates me, my tapping foot instantly stopping as our eyes meet. Dr. Malcolm hovers behind a chair at table eleven, his gaze locked on mine as he sits down. He doesn't break it. Neither do I.

Today, he swapped out old-school tweed for obsidian couture. I don't like it. I prefer the tweed. It's less threatening. Less...hypnotizing. I can't look away. But I know I should. He's staring at me like his glasses are a microscope, and I'm some extraterrestrial. He's trying to study me. Analyze me.Readme.

But he can't.

I bring the glass of champagne to my lips and take a slow sip. A drop cascades down my chin. I run a finger across my skin to catch it before it falls and ruins my dress. His eyes darken. He's angry, I think. He's angry he can't read me. I'm a language he's never heard of, never seen, never even knew existed.

He's supposed to be plain English, and yet... He's unreadable to me too. I can't figure him out. On paper, heseems so simple. A picture book. But as he sits across from me...a burning desire to understand him flows through my veins.