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“Come on. I think you need a drink.” Sensing her skittishness, he didn’t make another attempt to touch her, for which she was grateful.
They descended the stairs in silence and walked into The Silk Lounge. Swathes of indigo and cream silk lined the ceiling and fell into privacy-providing curtains, behind which several loungers had been arranged.
Besides a couple stretched out on twin leather studded lounges, there were only a handful of staff. The female bartender caught Bjorn’s eye, and he winked at her. Her dimpled smile betrayed familiarity even before she gave him a cute three-fingered wave.
Okay, Bjorn was officially off the menu.
Leia followed him down a short hallway into another large space. The doors on either side of the hallway were shut, but she heard the hum of low voices and laughter.
“We’ve had a few people choose their initial events so we’re busy setting up,” Bjorn said. “Have you chosen yours yet?”
Heat twisted through her belly as she recalled the activities in store for the guests. “Not yet.”
He smiled and led her down another set of stairs into a darker, indigo-lit lounge. “You want to take your time. That’s fine. But don’t wait too long. You don’t want any experience to pass you by.”
Before she could answer, he held open the door to the Ozone Bar.
The scene that met her stole her breath away.
There was no ceiling to the room, only white fluffy clouds. Although she knew it was an illusion, Leia was mesmerized allthe same. As she walked further into the room, holographs of naked winged cherubs floated past, darting in and out of the clouds. She was so engrossed she stumbled into Bjorn. This time when he caught her, she didn’t pull away. Her senses assured her he was harmless.
“Shit. I’m sorry. You must think I’m the clumsiest woman on earth. And you would probably be right.”
He laughed. “The first time I stepped aboard my first IL plane I was blown away too.”
She smiled. “How long have you worked here?”
“Just over a year. But it’s been a hell of a wild ride so far.” They reached the circular bar in the middle of the room, and he nodded to the bartender. “What would you like to drink, Miss Michaels?”
“Champagne. And please, call me—” The remaining words melted in her brain. At first, she wondered whether the effects of the room were messing with her brain activity. Then she realized her mind had reactedthat stronglyto him.
The man whose laser-sharp eyes were fixed on her, trapping her in place from ten feet away. He leaned against the bar, a glass of something on rocks in one hand.
The low lights ringing the edge of the bar lit his face, emphasizing the severe cut of his jaw and his rugged, edgy beauty. His strong throat moved as he swallowed a mouthful of drink. Slowly, he straightened, turned fully toward her.
He was tall and lean, with wavy black hair and a symmetry of well-proportioned muscles that begged to be ogled. A black fitted shirt covered a wide chest and washboard stomach, and an expensive dinner jacket hid the rest.
But his body didn’t interest her. Just yet. It was his face Leia couldn’t look away from. His face that enthralled her to the point of speechlessness.
“Miss Michaels?”
She tried to shake her head. She may have succeeded. She wasn’t sure. Voices buzzed around her. Bjorn may have exchanged puzzled looks with the bartender.
What she was sure of was that she couldn’t stop staring athim.
And the blatant way he returned her stare told her he didn’t intend to do the polite thing and break their connection either. Her mouth dried and each breath felt like a huge chore to just make her lungs work.
God.
A glass appeared in front of her, and she took it. The chill registered against her fingers.
Touch sensation. Present.
Heartbeat. Freight train speed, but present.
Staring zombie-like. Reaching critical point.
He moved. She followed him with her eyes. Electricity lanced her belly and spiraled outward, spreading like cracked lightning before zeroing in hard between her legs.