Читать книгу Tonight - Nana Malone - Страница 15

Chapter 4

Synthia adjusted the cap sleeves of the black dress and studied herself in the mirror again. Not bad. She’d styled her hair down, adding big voluminous curls. It gave her a sultry look. Her earrings were understated diamond studs and she wore a simple diamond solitaire. As for the dress, it had a conservative scoop neckline but was also completely backless.

Once she and Tristan had settled in, she’d buckled into work while he went to check out the pool. She’d requested one of the staff to show her some of the other rooms and she’d managed to get some pictures. She’d also done a rate analysis of Decadence room packages. Now the two of them were due at the hotel’s swanky lounge.

But despite several attempts, she couldn’t open the door of her room and face him. It’s not like it’s a date. Be brave, Syn. He’s just a man. She could handle him. Just as Olivia said. But when she opened the door to the suite, Tristan was nowhere to be seen. The light in his bedroom was on, so she could only assume he’d come back at some point while she was working. Question was, was he still there, or had he already left? Without her? As quickly as the sting of rejection flared, she shut it down. It wasn’t as if they were here on some romantic getaway. She was here to work. She certainly couldn’t expect him to wait for her.

The balcony door was open and she couldn’t help a peek at the Strip. She’d secretly always been fascinated by this city even though she’d never been here. For all its garishness and debauchery, there was still something glamorous and exciting. It made her blood hum.

“Hot damn.” The muttered curse had her whirling around. Tristan, decked in an impeccable tuxedo, stood staring at her.

“What’s the matter?”

When he still didn’t say anything, she shifted uncomfortably. Maybe she should have brought something nicer. That was the problem with doing these types of events, finding something that didn’t label her as the impostor she was. But she hadn’t really owned anything ritzier for this party.

Tristan opened his mouth, shut it and then tried again. “N-nothing. You look...er...nice. You look nice.”

Syn studied him. He seemed sincere. But then you never did know with Tristan. He was too slick. Too practiced at the art of charm. And he looked too good in that tux. She tried to remind herself of what Olivia had said. Use some of his skills against him. Be charming, be nice to him. When it came to Tristan, she was far more practiced at sarcasm, but she would try nice for a change. “Thank you. You clean up pretty nice yourself.” He’d shaved and for the first time since she’d met him, his jaw was smooth. Her fingertips itched to touch his handsome face, but she wisely kept her hands to herself.

He did a little twirl and grinned. “This old thing?”

She couldn’t help laughing. When she did, he stopped and stared at her again, his gaze intense. “You should laugh more often.”

Well, what exactly was she supposed to say to that? “Well, I laugh when I find something funny. And right now your catwalk chic coupled with your Blue Steel expression is pretty funny.”

His voice pitched lower. “So, what do you say, Syn? Want to go to a party?”

* * *

Tristan knew how to handle women. He’d been doing it all his life, but when it came to Syn, he immediately morphed into a gawky teenager with bumbling hands and fumbled words. But tonight was especially bad.

That backless number by far was the sexiest dress at the party. Oh, sure, some voluptuous women were showing more skin or their attire was so elaborate that her dress seemed simple in comparison, but when she turned around, everybody stared. The fabric skimmed low and stopped just at the top of the curve of her gorgeous ass, tantalizing him to touch it.

Her back was strong, as evident by the sleek muscle on display, but she was also soft. Half the night he wanted to reach out and skim her spine with his finger. Would she shiver? Would her pupils dilate as they had done on the plane? Would she part her lips for him?

Earth to Tristan. Get a grip.

Silently he searched the crowd further and found her on the balcony, a glass of champagne in her hand. Every time he looked up and found her, she was alone. When he’d seen her standing in their suite with the moonlight bringing out the highlights in her hair, she’d looked like an angel. A sexy angel sent to drive him insane.