Page 5 of Forbidden Bride (Forbidden 1)
I arch a brow. “You are?” My voice is breathy. “Juliet didn’t have wings.”
A low murmur of agreement rumbles from deep in his throat. He trails his hand along my wing, then to the edges of my hair and down my right arm. The ache that pulses between my legs is potent and primal—an instant reaction to the brief, light contact of his fingertips on my skin. My insides go tight with a lick of panic. I’ve never been in this situation before. Super-hot guy showing interest in me, touching me as if he has all the right in the world while I give him all the rein to think that.
His eyes burn into mine. “A detail poorly overlooked by the author.”
Breathe, Karina. In. Out. In. Out.
Looking away, I prepare to make my exit from this tryst before someone sees me engaging with him. My family will not react well to my being unchaperoned and flirted with. I know this with all my being, but I can’t seem to break away.
“Then you must be my Romeo,” I murmur.
I did it again. Too forward! Too flirty. I look to his hands for a wedding band while absently rubbing my thumb over the ring finger of my left hand. He’s not wearing one.
And my own finger is naked today, too.
I glance over his shoulder and subtly scan the crowd. There’s no one to stop me. What would Jane Austen do? Indulge your imagination in every possible flight.
Thank you, Pride and Prejudice. I will. It’s risky, but I will.
He reaches for my hand and I allow him to take it. Cradling the tips of my fingers on the tips of his, he steps closer and looks down at me. He could completely envelop me with his long, muscular body—just wrap me up and tuck me in. My throat hurts as I swallow hard.
“A good Romeo won’t allow you to drink this drivel.” He plucks the flute I forgot I was holding from my other hand and trades it for a glass of red wine from a passing server. “Here, this is exponentially better. Trust me.”
I’m locked into his eyes again, my breath slow and controlled so I don’t start panting with the desire flooding my veins. He brings the glass to my lips and gently tips it. Sweet, red wine flows past my lips. I catch it on my tongue as he lowers the glass, his thumb quickly catching a small drop from my lower lip.
“See? I told you.” He hands me the glass. The coolness of the stem brings me back to reality. What if someone witnessed that? I could be…Christ.
“So…” I try to recenter myself. “What brings you here tonight? Racing or wine?”
“Do I have to choose only one?” He salutes me with his glass and takes a drink. “The truth is, I can take or leave the wine, but racing is in my blood. I’d be lost without my cars.”
“That’s tragic.”
“Isn’t it?” He puts a hand over his heart. “Almost as tragic as young love cut too short, my Juliet.”
I smile. “Does your family disapprove of your love affair with your cars?”
“Most vehemently.”
“Yet, you continue to love them anyway. The cars.”
Now it’s his turn to smile. “Most absolutely. I tend to desire forbidden things.”
He’s standing close to me again. Each rise of his chest nearly rubs his costume against mine. Goosebumps blossom down my arms. I have no idea how to respond to that. He fingers the edges of my brown hair again.
“What brings you here? The racing or the wine?” he asks, repeating my question.
I shuffle back a step. Just in case. “Neither are my forte. I didn’t want to come.”
“Then we never would have met, and that would truly be tragic.”
There’s an edge to his voice that I’m not familiar with. It’s rich, and masculine, and sounds like a spoken caress. I’m about to respond when another man taps him on the shoulder.
A flicker of irritation passes over Romeo’s face before he gives me a parting nod. “I have to go.”
“Wait,” I call after him. He turns back toward me. “Who are you?”
He winks. “Your future husband.”
And then he’s gone.
