Wow.
I’ve heard women call certain men god-like but never actually experienced that perception myself until just this second.
And this guy…this muscular, devilishly handsome man with a devious glint in his deep dark eyes…oohh, he is more than god-like.
He’s god of all gods god-like.
Like a mix of Apollo, Adonis, and Eros, personified.
Yes, that’s exactly how I’d describe this man.
I let myself drown in the chocolate-colored pools of decadence for a second longer than necessary.
Mmm.
Oh God, who is this delicious creature?
I hope he shows up on my menu tonight.
My eyes rake over the tall, dark, and delectable creature staring at me. He’s dressed all in black, a stark contrast to me and my outfit. He must work for my father. Dad’s closest business associates are always on the guest lists for our family events. “Thank you,” I rasp, smoothing down the front of my dress. I quickly check it for spots, but miraculously, there are none.
“There are two types of girls who wear white — ones who hate getting dirty, and ones who secretly love it,” he says, his voice deep and gruff. “Which one are you?”
“I don’t know you well enough to dignify that with a response,” I squeak out.
To be honest, nobody has ever asked me that question.
I’m a virgin, yes, but not a complete prude.
And judging by the reaction my body is having right now, it seems that I am…shockingly…very much down to get dirty.
Not that I’d never admit it to a perfect stranger, even if he was the chosen one.
I do have some degree of dignity and self-control, thank you very much.
His heated gaze makes goosebumps shoot up my arms and down my legs. “So, the former.”
My jaw drops. “I never said that.”
“Yeah? You do like it dirty, then. I was right.” His eyes glimmer with a hint of danger and a delicious chill slips down my spine.
Yum.
I nearly choke on the gasp of air I pull into my lungs.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s hot,” he says, his words dripping with pure seduction and sin.
“Did you ever consider the fact that maybe I just like white?” I sputter.
“No. You’re trying to cover up the fact that you’re a freak. You can tell me the truth.”
My eyes are so wide, they’re about to pop out of my skull right now. God-like on the outside but a whole lot of something I don’t know how to navigate on the inside. “You…you…who the hell are you, anyway? And why are you here?”
“Business.”
“What kind of business? Are you security or something?”
His gaze darkens and he drags his eyes away from me. “Something.” He bends down to grab the cake, sticking the lid back on the box before handing it back to me. “I’d watch myself if I were you.” He looks around, his forehead creasing. “Next time, you might not be so lucky. And I won’t be here to save you.”
Chapter Three
KRISTINA
What in the fresh hell was that all about?
My mouth drops open as I watch his retreating back head toward the house.
I cover my heart with my hand, the fluttering catching me more off-guard than my fall.
I haven’t felt that sensation in…well, forever, if I’m being honest.
My career aspirations always superseded potential emotional entanglements.
My future as an emergency surgeon has been my top priority for as long as I can remember.
I guess it’s why I’ve avoided relationships.
I’ve never felt that ‘spark’ with anyone before…never really allowed it to happen. And in my mind, I’d built sex up to be something I wanted to share with someone who meant more to me than just how good of a lab partner he could be.
If I somehow found him in between classes, exams, hospital rotations, and fellowships.
Getting off doesn’t require love and emotion.
And let’s face it, there are plenty of times when it doesn’t require a guy. My collection of erotic electronics suits my purposes perfectly in a pinch.
But I can’t deny the flickers of lust that ignited in my core when I was pressed against him.
Maybe I would like it dirty.
And I think I’d like it better with him.
Whoever he is.
Since he just walked through my front door, I plan to find that out sooner than later.
I give my head a quick shake and walk toward the house, carefully avoiding any more cracks since lightning doesn’t usually strike twice, and my salacious savior seems to have disappeared into thin air.
“Kristina!” My mother swoops down on me once I’m inside, enveloping me in her signature CHANEL N°5-doused embrace. I breathe in her familiar scent, wrapping my arms tight around her svelte figure.
Years as an Olympic gymnast sculpted her body, and with a vigorous workout regimen, she’s managed to keep it.
I, on the other hand, got my Dad’s genes and the boobs, hips, and thighs that came with them.
I call it the Italian grandmother gene since his mother blessed me with everything she had to offer.
“You look so beautiful, sweetie,” she says, holding me away from her so she can take a good long look. “And thin. Are you eating?”
I roll my eyes and chuckle. “I’m in med school, Mom. I don’t have time to eat. But thank you for the compliment. I’ll take it.”
She frowns at me. “You need to rest.”
“If I rest, I will fall behind. I’ll sleep once I become an attending.”
Mom chuckles. “Always so driven.”
“Just like you,” I say, giving her arm a squeeze. “I learned from the best.”
Mom wraps her arm around my waist, leading me into the kitchen and sidestepping a group of people congregated around the large marble island in the middle of the room. She pops open a bottle of champagne and pours us both a glass. “I’m so happy you found time in your schedule to come home. You know how much it means to us all that you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” I take a sip, the chilled bubbly liquid making my nose tingle. “And I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. This semester is a real killer, and I’m buried under textbooks most days.” I take another sip. “Okay, every day.”
Mom nods, her eyebrows knitting. “I know, it’s just that…” She bites down on her glossed lip, her blue eyes scouting the room. “Something has happened, sweetie.”
I put down my glass, alarm bubbling in my chest. “Is everyone okay, Mom? Is it Grandma?”
She shakes her head, leaning toward me. “Your father really needs to talk to you. He’s in his office.”
I pull away, narrowing my eyes. “About what?” My voice drips with suspicion. One of the reasons why I went away to medical school was to escape this life. I’m not an idiot. I know what my father does.
Kind of.
Well, I know it’s illegal and it involves a lot of crime, death, and deception.
He may not be the one pulling the trigger or the jobs, but he’s ordering them all.
And I never wanted that seedy legacy to follow me into my future as a surgeon.