I modify the wrap I grabbed for dinner round my elbows and cross the flagstone because the summer season solar dips beneath the horizon. A smooth glow from dozens of golden bulb lights are strung forwards and backwards from the pergola to light up the stainless table-scape and company. I seek for my place card, pulling up brief after I catch sight of him from the nook of my eye.

Mr. Tall, Darkish, and Cocky is kicking again in a chair as if he owns the place, one leg crossed over his knee on the ankle and an arm thrown over what I’m assuming is my seat. Proper subsequent to him.

As if that’s not unhealthy sufficient, he’s elevating his highball in my path and capturing me a depraved smile. His piercing blue eyes repair immediately on me and ship a shiver down my backbone. He’s giving me the arduous promote, in any case.

However why? As a result of we’re the one two single people right here tonight, aside from the bride and groom? I’m greater than used to holding my very own in a boardroom filled with hostile executives or at a press convention, dealing with a whole lot of reporters hurling questions quicker than I can discipline them. Certainly, I can deal with one man, even one along with his unmistakable magnetic power and his mischievous confidence that, slightly than off-putting, correctly, appears to slither underneath my pores and skin and weaken my resolve.

However two can play his recreation. I tug my wrap up round my shoulders and sashay over, batting my eyelashes as I image his astonished face after I flip him down flat…once more. He rises, as gracefully as a panther, his eyes raking my physique as I strategy, and attracts out my chair for me.

“Mallory,” he murmurs, in a happy, scrumptious, low tone.

“Thanks.” I take my seat and attain for the glass of ice water to moist my all of a sudden parched mouth.

“You’re welcome.”

However earlier than he can say extra, a server comes by to fill our wine glasses. Then, on the finish of the lengthy desk, a fork clinks on a glass. Time for a toast.

“Right here,” Carson whispers, dragging my consideration away from the bride’s father clearing his throat and to a pen and small pad of paper, each bearing the resort brand.

My forehead wrinkles. “What’s this?”

There’s a delighted glint in his eye. “A recreation.”

“A recreation?”

He lifts a shoulder. “When you’re up for it.”

My wariness meter surges into overdrive. So it isn’t the arduous promote, however slightly a distinct tactic. My curiosity and begrudging respect for him ticks up a notch. “What are we enjoying for?”

He shoots me a wounded look as if harm that I’d query his motives. “For enjoyable.”

“For enjoyable?”

“Scout’s honor.” He holds up a hand with three raised fingers. However not the primary three. The primary two and his pinkie.

The Shocker. Does he assume I used to be born yesterday?

I stage a have a look at him. “We each know that’s not the fitting signal.”

“We do?” he asks, feigning confusion and glancing from his raised hand to me and again, his eyebrows pinched collectively.

“We do.”

“Effectively, Ms. Stone,” he says, his gaze sweeping over me. “That flush creeping up your pretty pores and skin tells me that maybe you like this signal to Scout’s honor.”

Denying it will solely throw gas on the fireplace. As an alternative, I combat a smile and roll my eyes. “Fantastic,” I say, with a sigh. “You win. Let’s play.”

You’d assume I’d simply agreed to present him a hand job underneath the desk the way in which he lights up with a blinding smile that must be unlawful. He uncaps his pen and attracts a big sq. on his pad, then with just a few extra vertical and horizontal traces, he turns it into 9 squares.

“Make your gameboard,” he says, nodding towards my pad of paper. I draw my very own 9 squares.

“That is Toast Bingo,” he says. “Jot down any phrases or phrases any loving member of the family or good friend who stands up tonight would possibly say. Winner is the one with probably the most crossed out.”

“Did you simply invent this?” I ask as I fill my card.

He leans shut, as if confessing a sin. “Most likely such as you, I spend loads of time in boring conferences.”

The odor of him at my facet, smoky with a touch of bourbon and a whiff of crisp linen, is distracting. As is the comb of his naked knee towards my thigh, the wiry hair tickling in a means that jogs my memory how lengthy it’s been since I’ve slept with a person.

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