Free Jealous Lover by Brandi Michaels Page B

from the exact spot her lips had touched. His midnight-dark eyes gleamed with a challenge Crystal didn’t fully understand, yet she stood mesmerized by his action.
    In another instant, he’d placed the flute on a nearby tray and slipped an arm around her waist.
    “ Ela na horepsomai. Come, let’s dance,” he commanded rather than requested, leaving her little choice but to comply. Under different circumstances, she would have refused him outright, but too many of their guests were too interested in him for her to be openly rude.
    She stiffened as the heat of his touch seared her through the thin silk of her gown, wishing with all her heart that her body didn’t remember the exquisite pleasure he’d given it. Wishing she didn’t remember the feel of his hard body in all its powerful, naked glory.
    The small orchestra she’d hired for the evening was playing a slow ballad. She’d specifically requested slower dancing music for her more mature guests, but when Demetri pulled her into his arms, she wished she hadn’t done so.
    He wasn’t a tall man, just a few inches taller than her five-foot-six, yet she still had to tip her head to look him in the eyes. She found him scrutinizing her features, so she quickly dropped her gaze.
    “So, tell me about your foundation,” he said. His big, warm hand enveloped her smaller one, sending more heat throughout her body. She reminded herself to breathe and tried to focus on the conversation.
    “It’s a very old foundation, established after the death of Margarita Andresen, a matriarch of one of New York’s most elite families. Although she had incredible wealth, she devoted her life to caring for those less fortunate.”
    “I am sure she was a wonderful person and that is a very nice publicity spiel, but I want to know how you became involved. I thought you were dedicated to your painting, even though you believed you sucked at it.”
    Having been educated in England, Demetri spoke excellent English with just a hint of an accent, yet he often tangled the very proper with American slang. It had charmed Crystal in the past, but she hardened herself to it now.
    He held her at a polite distance; yet being in his arms was like nothing else in the world. It took her to sensual heights that no other man had even begun to scale. His unique scent enveloped her. His heat became her heat. His passionate nature radiated with every move, every touch, every whisper of breath.
    “I still paint, but there aren’t many self-supporting jobs available to landscape painters.”
    “So you are still the independent, free-spirited woman?”
    Crystal dared to look directly into his eyes again. What private thoughts lay hidden in the dark, mysterious depths? He always had an agenda. He’d learned about her involvement with the foundation or he wouldn’t be here tonight. Why had he come and what did he want?
    Did he wonder if she’d married or if she had a significant other in her life? A little sleuthing could have unveiled that information. Why would he care? In all the time they’d been separated, he’d never tried to contact her. When they’d parted, there’d been no doubt that it was permanent. He’d called her a lying, cheating slut. He’d lost faith in her, and she’d never forgive him for it.
    “I’m capable of supporting myself, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t know how free-spirited I am these days, though. I just spent the past forty-eight hours finalizing plans for this gala.” She’d gotten through the past two days with catnaps and lots of caffeine. “I enjoy my work, but it’s not an easy or undemanding job.”
    “That is why you have those dark shadows under your eyes?”
    Crystal blinked and lowered her head again. Leave it to him to notice. He’d always been too damned observant. The whole world might adore blondes, but being a natural one with the accompanying pale, telltale skin had its disadvantages. Even the most expensive makeup couldn’t