strawberry blonde more of a deep auburn now, and she’d curled all that luscious hair of hers and pinned it into an elegant updo, one that featured an intricate braid around the crown of her head, and dainty curls that fell to frame her face. Her eyes were smoky and blazing, highlighted with just a hint of shimmery green shadow and framed by long, gorgeous lashes. Her lips — which had been a source of torture for me since I walked away from their touch Wednesday night — were painted a warm hue of red-brown that matched her hair.
Those lips curled into a soft smile as I let my eyes wander the length of her, taking in the curves and lines of her body accented so well in her floor-length emerald gown. It was elegant enough to attend the Met Gala, and somehow she made it look effortless and casual, like she just woke up and threw it on without any intentional thought behind it. There was intricate beading and lace that played with each other along every inch, and through the long slit, I spotted high, strappy gold heels peppered with sparkling gemstones.
Belle was the kind of woman who could make any straight man fall over his feet to watch her pass by on the street, even on her worst days.
But tonight?
She was radiant.
“Did I render you speechless, Mr. Kumaka?” she teased, and I realized I’d been standing there for at least a full minute without saying a single word.
I cleared my throat. “You… Jesus, Belle. I don’t even know what to say.” My eyes met hers, and once again I felt taken in by their mischievous allure. “You’re breathtaking.”
Her eyes flicked down to her feet as a smile washed over her face, cheeks flushed, and she looked almost bashful when she found my gaze again. I held out my arm, and she threaded hers through it, making my heart pound a little harder in my chest when she wrapped her fingers around my biceps.
I remembered all too well how those fingers wrapped around another part of me just a few nights ago.
“I was thinking we could walk, since it’s just a few blocks,” I said when we were in the elevator. “It’s actually pretty nice outside. But…” I looked at her feet hesitantly. “We can get a cab. I know I wouldn’t want to walk three blocks in those bad boys.”
Belle scoffed. “Please. I’ve been walking in heels since I was twelve years old. A few blocks is a cake walk.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive,” she said, leaning into my side. Then, just as the elevator landed, she looked up at me with those intense, ever-changing eyes of hers. In the soft light of the elevator, or maybe because of the hue of her dress, they looked more green than blue tonight. “So, do I get a kiss, or do I have to wait until the end of the night for that?”
I smirked, trying to seem calm and unaffected when, in reality, my stomach did a somersault and a backflip and a double roundoff at this mesmerizing woman asking me to kiss her.
Gently, I tilted her chin with my knuckles, angling my mouth down until it met hers. We both inhaled at the contact, her warm lips pressing into mine with a soft urgency, and if it weren’t for her hair being in such an elaborate updo, I would have run my fingers through it and tugged her head back to grant me more access.
As it was, the elevator dinged softly before the doors slid open, and I broke our kiss just in time for us to be face to face with the lobby desk clerk and another guest.
The clerk cleared her throat, forcing a smile. “Ms. Monroe.”
“Good evening, Bethany,” she greeted, still flushed from our kiss.
We stepped out of the elevator, and my heart picked up its pace for a completely different reason when I realized the way the guy with Bethany was staring at me. I’d seen that look a thousand times — the quizzical brow, the slightly parted lips, the distant stare as if they’re racking their brain trying to remember how they know my face.
Before he could put two and two together, I tugged Belle forward, out of the elevator and out of the lobby until we were on the sidewalk.
“Wait!”
I stopped mid-stride, and when I turned to face Belle, she was smiling, holding out both of her hands.