Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Tonight, though, I am going to let my hair down.
I need it.
Sasha and I find a bar close by and immediately order a round of drinks before positioning ourselves at the bar where we laugh and talk, as if the world around us has stopped and it’s only the two of us. Sasha, who is newly single, catches the eye of more than one man. She is letting off an energy that tells everyone around her that she is ready and willing, and it helps that she’s absolutely gorgeous, too.
Long, raven-black hair, sky blue eyes, and a body with curves in all the right places, Sasha never goes without plenty of attention. All eyes are on her when she walks into a room, and, tonight, she is lapping it up. I can’t say I blame her, the girl got out of a relationship that wasn’t bringing out the best in her, and now she is free. I’m envious because the thought of being so free makes my heart ache a little.
Watching with a glass of vodka and soda in my hand as Sasha makes her way to the dance floor with another man, I can’t help but smile. She’s happy, and I love seeing her content.
“Had your fill of dancing for the night?”
The smooth, thick, Russian accent comes from behind me, and I startle, turning quickly toward it. Behind me stands a man so spectacular, for a moment I just stare at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, as if I’m star struck. The problem is, he’s not a star, he’s just so breathtaking that he might as well be.
If I could picture a vampire in real life, this man would be it.
I don’t know if it’s his thick, dark hair that’s long and loose around his shoulders, or the striking blue eyes that stand out against his creamy skin. Maybe it’s the dangerous scar that runs down his face, or the shadow of hair on his jaw that isn’t quite a beard. Tattoos peek out from his black shirt, unbuttoned at the top. He’s scarily beautiful, in a way that a man simply should not be.
Squirming, slightly uncomfortable but mostly weak at the knees, I mumble, “Do I know you?”
He stares at me so intensely, I’m forced to look down at my glass for a moment to gather myself. “Do you want to?”
What kind of answer is that?
“Answering a question with a question, you’re a tricky one,” I say, gathering myself finally.
His mouth tips up into a half smile and my heart does a stupid jump. I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s completely capable of taking my breath away. I’m usually sassy, strong willed and not easily shaken but this man is shaking me all over. Damn him. He’s spectacular.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?” he murmurs, nodding to the bartender who quickly gets him a drink.
“I’ve been dancing since I was a child. Now, I ask again, do I know you, or do you make it a habit of going to watch random girls dancing at shows?”
He lifts the glass, those perfect fingers curling around the base as he brings it to his lips. I’m certain he doesn’t miss my eyes following his every move, watching the way his throat tightens and then releases as he swallows the liquid down. He’s scarily calm and collected, the kind of man I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting before. It’s as if nothing in the world could shake him.
“I enjoy shows,” he answers, his voice thick. “I can’t say I’ve seen someone with your kind of talent.”
That’s flattering, I won’t deny it.
“Thanks.”
“What’s your name?”
I take another sip of my drink and glance at Sasha who is dancing with an incredibly good looking man, their bodies intertwined. She’s having the time of her life.
“Ellie.”
The mystery man tips his head to the side and repeats my name, the word rolling off his tongue in a way that has my groin clenching. Immediate guilt swarms me, because I’ve never had this kind of reaction over a man before, not even my own fiancé.
“Are you going to tell me yours?” I ask, finishing my drink because lord knows I need the distraction.
I can’t take my eyes off those lips.
Don’t get me started on his eyes.
“Marek,” he answers, his accent strong as he lets his name escape his perfect damn mouth.
That’s a very unique name.
I like it.
“Another drink.”
Marek simply waves his hand, and the bartender drops what he’s doing and gets him another drink. Then, he gets me one, too.
“I can get my own drinks,” I say defiantly, as I flash my ring in his direction.
His eyes drop to it, but he doesn’t seem at all bothered by the very loud and obvious sign that I’m taken sitting on my finger.