Catch My Breath. Lynn Montagano
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“Don’t have too many of those. They’re rather potent.”
“But they’re so good. Don’t piss on my fireworks.” I smiled broadly.
A deep, throaty laugh filled the space between us.
“’Throwing shapes’ baffled you, but you know ‘piss on my fireworks?’”
“My sister only taught me the fun slang,” I laughed.
“Does she live here?”
“Not in Glasgow, no. She lives in London.”
“Well then, you’ll have to thank her for me,” he said, smoothing down his tie.
“Thank her for what?”
“Pretty Americans who know British slang are rare in these parts.”
“Interesting.” I looked up at him through my lashes.
“What?”
“Someone just warned me that you guys have a thing for American girls.”
His eyebrows arched. “And what did they say?”
“It has something to do with our accents.”
“You have an accent?” He angled toward me. “I hadn’t noticed.”
The way that he was looking at me caused me to completely forget my exhaustion. His dark eyes and sexy grin woke me up in more ways than one, pushing several of my hot buttons.
“Be careful,” he said, clasping the glass in my hand. “You don’t want to spill it all over your dress.”
Way to go. “You must think I’m a hot mess. First I take a nose-dive into your suit and now I’m dropping drinks.”
“Like I said, I’ve seen worse.”
The longer I held his gaze, the faster my heart raced. There was something…forbidden in the way he looked at me.
“I should probably get back to my friends.”
“Do you have to?”
A suffocating aura of want enveloped me. He was closer, dominating the space between us. Our quick, breezy exchange was light years away from the hazy, thick fog of desire that hung in the air. Get it together, Lia. Walk away.
“You’re rather deep in thought.”
I blinked. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I thought maybe I was boring you.”
A shrill ring sounded from his pocket. He fished out a cell phone, frowning at the screen.
“I have to take this.”
And just like that, I was pulled out of his engaging aura and plopped back into reality.
I plastered on a polite smile. “It’s okay. Thanks again for the drink.”
He nodded at me and answered the call before slipping off to a quiet corner. My head was so cloudy from the jet lag, the drinks and now that guy. I turned on my heel and trotted off to find Darren and Stephanie.
“There you are.” Stephanie stood up as I approached the table. “We were about to send out a search party.”
“Sorry. I got a little sidetracked.”
“You okay?”
“Yep. Why?”
“You have that deer-in-headlights look.” She stared at me intently. “You’re shaking. I thought we agreed there was to be no worrying about that loser while we’re on vacation?”
I attempted to steady my hands as I smoothed down the fitted silk bodice of my dress. “It’s not that, Steph. I’m just tired.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Excuse me, ladies? May I take your photograph for the foundation’s website?”
A young man with a camera bigger than his head stood in front of us, poised and ready. Not ones to turn down a picture, we posed for him. He thanked us and walked off to find some more willing subjects.
“I wish you had let me do your hair tonight. All that gorgeousness pulled into a ponytail makes me sad,” Stephanie pouted.
I frowned, playing with a few chestnut strands. “It’s fine. I was going for a simple look anyway since we were running late.”
“I would have done a nice French twist or something for you in the car.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at Stephanie’s distress over my hair. In her slinky, full-length ice blue gown, she was the epitome of effortless glamour. The dress matched her eye color perfectly and contrasted with her short, jet-black hair. She was one of those girls who would look fabulous in a trash bag. At twenty-nine, she was a couple years older than me.
“You’re doing everyone’s hair next week for the wedding. I can go one night without a fancy up-do.”
“Fine,” she relented.
“Is it fun seeing Darren again? It’s been, what, two years or something since you’ve seen him, right? I’m surprised he remembered what you looked like.” I grinned.
“Smart ass. I’ve known him since I was sixteen. He could pick me out of one of those Where’s Waldo things. Blindfolded.”
“I could pick you out of one of those things blindfolded. You’d never be caught wearing horizontal stripes.”
We linked arms and went to check out the silent auction. Darren was already scrutinizing one of the tables when we found him. We spent a good chunk of the evening ogling all the luxurious items that were up for auction; a weekend for two in Paris, wine tasting in Tuscany, spa getaways and a number of other items that were extremely tempting.
“A group of us are thinking of going to The Living Room. This event is a bit boring. Do you two want to come?”
I was vaguely aware of Darren’s question. My thoughts were still tangled around my encounter at the bar.
“Hello. Earth to Lia,” Stephanie sang out. “Do you want to come out with us? Or would you rather go back to the suite and catch up on your beauty sleep?”
“Where are you guys going?”
“The Living Room. It’s a trendy lounge and nightclub. Right up your alley. Fancy cocktails and all that,” Darren said.
“Um, sure. Why not. I have to kick this exhaustion at some point, right?” I kept scanning the room for the nameless, stumble-rescuing, aesthetically pleasing Knight In Shining Armani. He seemed to have disappeared. To say I was sad was beyond an understatement.
Darren escorted us out to our waiting Land Rover. It was still parked behind the gray Mercedes SUV I almost fell onto earlier. The blonde girl from the bathroom was standing next to it. She looked annoyed but brightened when she saw Darren.
“Hi, Mac. I was hoping to bump into you tonight.”
“Hey, Sarah. Lovely to see you,” he addressed her politely, and then turned to us. ”Stephanie, Lia, this is Sarah Everett. She’s the vice president at my agency.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” she smiled. “Lia, you’re the girl I met earlier, right? Nice to see you again.”
She fixed her gaze on Darren.
“Where are you all off to?”
“Out for a quick bevvie. We’re trying to help Lia overcome jet lag by keeping her out as late as possible.” Darren slung his arm around my shoulders and grinned. “Waiting for someone?”
“Aren’t I always? Have you—”
“Good