Page 102 of The Stranger

“Delilah,” she mumbles, eyeing me from head to toe. “Nice dress.” There’s venom laced in her words, which, in a way, pleases me. Her bitchy tone and attitude scream one thing: jealousy.

Mission accomplished, Eloise.

“Wow,” Kayne whistles from beside my sister. “Look at you. I hardly recognise you, Li. You look?—”

“Taken,” Spencer barks, pulling me back into his side. “So, I suggest you put those leery eyes of yours back in your head where they belong.”

That earns Kayne a punch in the shoulder from my sister. “Seriously, Kayne,” she snaps before turning and storming away.

After our disastrous arrival, I decided it was wise to keep to ourselves. We retreated to our table and have remained there since … it was for the best.

Eyes have been on us all night. I noticed Kayne staring at me countless times, which I ignored. I don’t know what his problem is.

On two occasions, I caught his mother sending me what could best be described as death stares across the room. I’m not sure what I did to deserve those, but it may have something to do with the cease-and-desist letter Spencer’s lawyer sent to the dental clinic.

Either way, no love was lost there.

It was the shameless women fawning all over my date that got under my skin the most. Spencer seemed oblivious to the attention he was gaining from every female in the vicinity. He was too preoccupied with me.

His subtle caresses, or the way he kept constantly leaning in to place soft kisses on my bare shoulder, or when he buried his face in the crook of my neck. It had my blood running hot. I was desperate for the night to be over. I know we could leave, but the stubborn part of me didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

Once the dinner service is over, the DJ starts playingmusic. My sister and all her love-me-do friends are strutting their stuff on the dance floor.

“Do you want to dance?” I ask Spencer.

“To this? Not in your life. Ask me again when a slow song comes on.”

“Right … I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“About those old hips of yours.”

When I laugh, he leans in and whispers, “I’m going to spank your sweet arse when we get home for that.”

“I look forward to it, Mr Prescott.”

“Fuck, Delilah,” he groans, tipping his head back and sliding his hand under the table to adjust himself. “You are not helping with my little … problem.”

“Little?”

“You know what I mean.”

I lean forward and place my lips on his. “There’s nothing little about the monstrosity in your pants.”

One of his eyebrows springs up. “Monstrosity?”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I happen to be very fond of that appendage.”

“Is that so?” he asks, grinning.

“Yes.”

He leans in and burrows his face in the crook of my neck again. “I need to be inside you badly right now,” he growls, and his warm breath skating over my skin makes it pebble with goose bumps.

“I have a plan that might rectify that,” I say.

He draws back and eyes me sceptically. “What type of plan? It doesn’t involve going out there, does it?” he asks, jutting his chin towards the dance floor.