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She followed Emilio to his table, surprised that it was still empty. She was almost positive she’d seen someone beside him earlier, but with so many people in the club she couldn’t be sure. Really, that fact made itmoresurprising. In a club this busy, a vacated table would usually be occupied again immediately. Unless it belonged to a VIP… Who exactly was Emilio?
Jasmine was tempted to look him up discreetly on her phone, but she ignored the idea. She was meant to be taking a break from ‘uptight’ Jasmine. She was going to go with the flow and see where the night took her. A little bit of mystery would only make things more fun.
Emilio pulled out her chair. Her first instinct was to tell him she could do it herself, but she managed not to. Chivalry was rare in her day-to-day life. Running a successful online boutique meant Jasmine usually had to be the power in the room. When she wasn’t, it was because she was meeting with other high-powered executives and investors, and she would never allow any action that could possibly have them perceive her as weak, or anything less than an equal. It was nice to let herself enjoy a chivalrous gesture for once.
She watched Emilio move round the table and pour himself into the scalloped couch. A passing strobe momentarily illuminated his dark-brown eyes, making her think of rich coffee. He leaned across and snagged the cocktail stick out of her drink. Perfect white teeth gripped onto the first of the three olives and slid it off before he deposited the stick back into her glass. His Adam’s apple bobbed appealingly as he swallowed the stolen garnish.
She bit her lip. He was presumptuous. Why was this so erotic?
‘So, Jasmine,’ he said. ‘Alone at the club?’ His words pulled her attention to his lips, pink and full. Images of biting into them filled her mind, and she had to force herself to stop short of physically shaking her head to clear it enough to answer.
‘What about it?’ She had no intention of talking about her failed wedding with this handsome stranger. This close, she could see his hair was ever so slightly curly and her fingers itched to run through the silky strands.
‘I think there’s a story there,’ Emilio said, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table.
‘And what makes you think that I’m going to tell you what that is?’ she replied, mirroring his movements. His unmistakeable Italian accent was like music to her.
‘You might find it helpful to unburden yourself to an interesting stranger.’
Jasmine could see his eyes dance with mischief, and she was certain in that moment that a man like this would never be short of company. He probably never experienced rejection.
‘I think you’re curious,’ she said, running her finger round the brim of her glass. ‘And you know what they say about curiosity.’ She sipped her drink and watched his eyes darken. Everything below her waist clenched at the sight. How curious she should experience attraction like this today of all days, when she hadn’t felt anything close to this in months.
Jasmine shut down that line of thinking. She wasn’t going to entertain another thought about Richard, or her former best friend, except to acknowledge the lesson they’d taught her. Of course she shouldn’t confide in this stranger. She could trust no one. She needed no one.
What she did need was a distraction.
‘I think I have enough lives,’ Emilio said.
She smiled. ‘Hmm, tom cat.’
Emilio simply shrugged, no denial on his lips. For some reason, that appealed to her. Maybe it was because he was honest about what he was. There were two kinds of men: those who pretended to be a white knight, who inevitably disappointed, and those who didn’t care about being a knight at all. They were cads and wore the badge proudly. Tonight, Jasmine preferred the latter. They provided honest fun with no strings attached and had no reason to feel threatened by her intelligence and control.
‘You know, I’m not the only one alone here tonight,’ she ventured.
‘What makes you think I intended the night to end that way?’
‘On the prowl, are we?’
‘Not any more,’ Emilio said, smirking.
‘Very smooth,’ Jasmine said. She crossed her legs under the table, her stiletto-clad foot brushing against his leg as she did so. It was an accident, but an exhilarating rush flooded through her.
‘Likewise.’
‘Not every touch equates to flirting, Emilio.’
‘No, not every touch, but yours certainly do.’
‘And how do you figure that?’
‘I can see it in the way your breath sped up. I can see it in the flush of your skin. I can see it in the way you look at me.’
‘And just how, exactly, have I been looking at you?’
‘Like you’re undressing me with your eyes.’
‘It’s dark in here; there’s no way you could see all that,’ Jasmine said in a half-hearted denial.