Page 213 of Morally Black Betrothal

He looked good. Edible, even. Somehow better than I had imagined over the last five years.

I shifted from one foot to the other. Suddenly, my dress was a bit too tight, and my skin tingled with anticipation. I felt drunk, despite only one glass of champagne.

“What—what are you doing here?” I managed to get out.

Stupid question. Xavier quirked a black brow and glanced around as if the answer was obvious. I suppose it was. It was a party. Why else would he be here if not to enjoy himself like everyone else?

Most of the guests were too absorbed with the free-flowing champagne, music, and well, themselves to take interest. A few, though, had definitely noticed him. More than one woman was eyeing Xavier over their flutes of Cristal.

“Business.” Xavier pulled me back with a smile. It looked like he was trying to be nice, but something about his expression looked forced, like it didn’t come naturally. It was distinctly…predatory.

What did that make me? His prey?

“I’m finally opening that restaurant in New York,” he continued. “De Vries is one of my investors, and he invited me tonight.”

“De Vries?” I frowned.

Xavier waved a casual hand toward the crowd. “Eric? The host? He and I were at university together when I did a semester abroad at Dartmouth. What did you do, sneak in with the caterers?”

I flushed. Did I stick out that much? I wasn’t dripping in diamonds or couture, but I thought I looked respectable. Audrey, Matthew had said. But maybe he meant like inMy Fair Lady. Before the makeover, when she was still the homely flower girl with the Cockney accent and rags for wear.

“I—no,” I stumbled. “He—Eric—they’re friends with my?—”

I stopped, took a deep breath, then tried again. I could do this. Hold a conversation. I was a teacher, for goodness’ sake. I basically herded cats for a living.

“I came with my brother, Matthew,” I clarified. “The guy who was with me before. He’s friends with the de Vrieses.”

Translation:I’m supposed to be here.

Was it my imagination, or did Xavier’s massive shoulders relax a little? That smile peeked out again, this time looking a bit more natural. Still an imitation of a shark, though.

I suppose that made me the minnow.

I swallowed the rest of my third glass of champagne immediately.

“Your brother? Do I get to meet him?”

He swung around, looking for Matthew. But thank God, he had disappeared into the sea of glitter and money.

I shrugged, then lunged for a glass of champagne on the tray of a passing caterer. “Hold on there, buddy,” I said as he started to walk away. “One more for the road.”

The waiter took my empty glass with a wry look and moved on.

I turned to find Xavier watching me intently. One side of his mouth twitched, like he was about to smile. But he didn’t. I took another long draught of champagne. His gaze traveled with the glass to my lips and stayed there for several seconds until, again, he cleared his throat and pulled at his necktie.

“Too tight?” I asked.

He frowned. “What?”

I nodded. “Your tie. You keep adjusting it.”

His hand dropped. “Eh. Well. Hate these things, if you want to know the truth. Like a bloody noose.” He exhaled slowly through his nose. “Christ, what have you been up to? It’s been, what, five years?”

I took another deep swig of champagne. Feeling lightheaded was better than feeling starstruck. And for some reason, every time the muscles of his neck tested his collar like that, I didn’t quite feel steady on my feet. “Some-something like that.”

“Did you finish school?” he pressed. “You were studying literature, correct?”

“Um, yes. That’s right.” I stifled a smile. “Good memory.”