that had any bearing whatsoever on our current situation.
A situation that I was devoting all my alcohol tolerance toward forgetting for the rest of the night.
A new song thrummed over the speakers, the upbeat melody drawing more patrons onto the dance floor, including me. The bumping bass was catchy and had my hips swaying without thought. Drink in hand, I found a spot somewhere in the middle of all the writhing bodies and paired-off couples.
Throwing my head back and closing my eyes, I lost myself to the electrified atmosphere, to the rhythm driving my feet. I surrendered to the exhilarating sensations that swarmed my veins. Gave myself over to them. To the intoxicating feeling that I didn’t have a single care in this world. That nothing else existed outside of that song, that club, and that drink.
Then my spine tingled with a different sensation.
I was being watched.
Not just by the single men around me. It was someone specific, watching from a distance. Stalking from the shadows. Hunting like a predator.
Old fears crept in as gooseflesh raised over my skin. The knowledge that someone had me in his sights had my heart pounding in my ears, overpowering the bass of the music.
Then I spotted him.
The shadowy figure hovering on the edge of the dance floor, partially shrouded in darkness, was most definitely watching me.
But he wasn’t a stranger. Not entirely anyway.
He was my husband.
And he looked equal parts furious and…hungry.
Wait, hungry? That couldn’t be right. We despised each other. After that crack about flashing my cleavage at the cameras, I’d briefly contemplated taking out a hit on him.
Yet, there it was, written all over Nico’s face. In his wild eyes, his flaring nostrils, his tightening jaw. His tie was loosened and askew. His hair was disheveled, as if he’d been taking it in and out of his man bun over and over.
He followed me again?
Why? Just to make sure I didn’t get murdered and screw up his deal with my father? Most of the time, he acted like I could go jump off a fifty-story building for all he cared. Again, as long as I didn’t die and interfere with his business.
Then there were these moments.
When he looked at me like he might actually give a shit. He’d wanted me to leave him a note when I was going somewhere alone. Had suggested worthwhile restaurants to eat at. Had left cash for me in his absence. Had seemed wholly upset when I’d told him about my scrape with crazed obsession years ago in a hotel room.
Who was the real Nico?
With our gazes entwined across the dance floor, he slowly raised his hand and crooked his finger at me.
Oh, no, no, no, malysh. Baby boy.
This girl would not be beckoned.
When I kept my feet planted right where they were, Nico smirked at my insolence and slid his hands inside his pockets.
He remained right where he was, eyes on me.
I remained right where I was, eyes on him.
And in the middle of a thriving club of undulating bodies, the two of us did our own dance.
Or, maybe a more accurate description was, I did a little dance for him.
I rolled my hips to the pulsating melody of the blaring techno song. Swaying sensually from side-to-side, dipping them provocatively on certain beats. I flipped my hair over one shoulder as I took a sip from my drink, watching Nico over the rim.
His gaze shuttered.
Clearly struggling to keep himself reined in, his eyes flicked down my body, zoning in on the exposed sliver of my stomach. His tongue dragged across his lower lip, his teeth digging into it.
In that moment, I mentally high-fived myself for packing this black two-piece outfit set. The shorts were short, and the tank was a V-neck that showed whatever modest cleavage I had, which was nothing to write home about. The back of the top was mostly open and held together by a series of intricate ties.
And, well, I had to give him the full effect, didn’t I? If he wanted to take in the view, he’d be getting it from all angles.
Swerving my hips in a figure eight, I gave Nico my back. With the added titillation of him watching my every move, I stuck my ass out in his direction and put a little shimmy into it. I dropped it low, I shook it like a salt shaker. I gave him a show for all I was worth.
Feeling a buoyancy I hadn’t experienced in a long time, I