Take (Fury Brothers #4)

“It looks like you need a drink.” His voice was deep and rich. “Allow me.” He held out an arm to me.

I didn’t even think. I just slipped my arm through his.

Mr. Mystery had even more impact up close. As my body brushed his, my belly clenched. He smelled like limes and spice, and exuded a quiet strength.

He led me to the bar, and people seemed to move out of his way. He lifted a hand, and the stunning black bartender brought a fancy cocktail glass over, along with a short tumbler filled with amber liquid.

“For you.” He handed me the cocktail glass.

“Thank you.” I closed my hands around the glass, thankful to have something other to do than stare.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

“Well, it’s fancy.” I took a sip of the drink, and flavors exploded on my tongue. “Mmm, this drink is good.” I leaned in closer and caught a whiff of his crisp cologne again. “Honestly, I’m not much of a party person.”

“I’m not, either,” he said. “Although I get dragged to more of these parties than I’d like.” He tugged the lapel of his jacket. “And I’m always forced to dress up.”

“I don’t mind the dress-up part.” And really, this man should dress up more often.

His gaze lowered, and he took his time as he studied my dress. Heat ignited in my belly.

That brown gaze came back to mine. “Actually, I don’t mind you dressing up, either.”

My throat tightened, and I felt tingles everywhere.

“So, why don’t you do many parties?” he asked.

“Work. I’m a bit of a workaholic.”

His lips quirked. “Me, too.”

“I love what I do, so it doesn’t bother me to work late.”

He nodded, and I could see he understood.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

I shook a finger at him. “No, don’t ruin it. I’m enjoying the air of fun and mystery.”

He paused. “Okay, Ms. Mystery.”

I smiled. “Don’t try saying that three times fast.”

He laughed.

God. It was a good laugh. Desire shot straight between my legs. I didn’t know what was going on. No man had ever affected me like this before. I could see he felt it, too, reflected in the intense way he watched me.

I took a big gulp of cocktail. “So, you work too much?”

He nodded. “Like you, I enjoy my work. I have my own business.”

“For me, it’s knowing my work will help people. It gives me purpose.”

“Mine too. Too many people look or walk away when they could help.”

He was a double whammy. A good guy and a feast for the eyes. I shifted, and my glittery black handbag slid off my shoulder and hit the floor.

“Dammit.” I crouched, gripping the hem of my dress so I didn’t flash anyone.