Page 54 of For Your Eyes Only
“Where’s Dickie Normous?”
“Another one.” He rolls his eyes, flicking his wrist over and checking his smartwatch. The house lights lower, and he looks to the stage. “Is your timing always so perfect?”
I look around as well to see the shimmering curtain on the dance floor start to sway. The house music switches, rising louder with synthetic violins followed by thumping bass, drums, and an explosion of “Vogue” by Madonna.
The curtain sweeps away to reveal a trio of slim male bodies covered in leather bodysuits. They’re all swinging long, straight black wigs that extend almost to the floor, and their faces are fully made up with exaggerated eyes and lips.
Leading the pack, in the center, performing an athletic dance is Michele Santorino. He’s lip syncing with The Material Girl and moving hands around his heavily made-up face. The three of them fall into precise choreography, and it hits me. He’s a drag queen.
What the hell?
Male bodies surge past me to crowd the stage, and they’re cheering and dancing all around, swept up in the show. Tearing my eyes from the performance, I quickly scan the perimeter, searching every leather booth for her.
Our eyes meet, and electricity crackles between us. She’s standing near the wall, dressed in a white, strapless pantsuit. The top is a plunging V, highlighting her cleavage, and her wild curls are thick around her shoulders. Her lips are berry red. She’s wearing oversized gold hoop earrings, and the effect is edgy, sophisticated, and fabulous.
My demeanor cools, my poker face snapping into place. Too much has happened in the past twenty-four hours, and if this is another game, I’m calling her bluff. Sliding my hands into my pockets, I lift my chin in a challenge.Show your cards, sweetheart.
With that, I turn and head for the exit.
“Trip!” Her voice is behind me, growing closer, but I don’t stop. “Trip, wait!”
The bouncer makes some crack about leaving so soon as I push through the glass double doors. A fresh, cool breeze sweeps up the street, and I cross to the wide sidewalk that runs alongside the intracoastal waterway.
Another slam against the glass doors tells me she’s outside the club as well, and the rapid click of her heels on concrete gains on me as I slow my pace. Adrenaline vibrates in my chest. I want her to catch up with me. I’m ready for this reckoning.
Stopping at the edge of the boardwalk, I look out at the black water, tipped silver by the full moon. She stops at my side, looking out at the water. Her breath is quicker from walking fast, and with a glance to the side, I see her beautiful breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath that strapless top. The moon highlights her skin, and my jaw grinds. Why is she so damn gorgeous?
Calming my voice, I turn to her. “He’s gay.”
She nods, pulling her lips together. “If it makes you feel any better, I was engaged to him for a year.”
“Engaged?” I’m not sure if this new information makes me feel better.
“Misha was my dance partner in Italy. We came here together, and when everything went down, well, he… came out.” Shaking her dark head, a hint of a smile curls her lips. “Bianca said I should’ve known when we were engaged a year, and he never touched me.”
That makes me feel better. “Bianca is right. Especially someone like you.”
Her smile grows tentatively bigger. “Someone like me?”
Her eyes are so round and full in the moonlight. Her cheeks are pink, and her lips are shiny and kissable.Someone exactly like her.
“You lied to me. Why? Were you trying to make me look weak or show how you had some power over me?”
“I would never do anything to make you feel weak.” Her voice is low, that little rasp taunting me.
My gaze travels around her face, searching for any sign of deception. Her expression is sincere, without guile, the same as the night we had dinner, the night she told me about her childhood.What is this contradiction?
“You started a riot last night.”
Her eyes fall to my hands in my pockets. Stepping closer, she slides her fingers over the skin of my exposed wrist. Her touch stokes the fire simmering in my blood, the fire she started the first time I saw her dance.
“Did I start the riot? Or did the guy who broke the rules?” Her dark eyes blink up to mine. “Or the second guy who broke the rules?”
Clearing my throat, I slip my hand out of my pocket, and she immediately slides her palm down so it’s flush with mine. Our fingers lace together, and the feeling of her bare skin against mine rocks my shield.
I lower my gaze to her slim hand in mine, a beautiful shade of olive. “When you left me at the Breakers, I was afraid I’d come on too strong. I thought you were an innocent seamstress. Now I don’t know what to think.”
“No one has ever touched me the way you did that night.” Her eyes flicker down. “I liked it. I liked it so much, it made me afraid, and I ran.”