Free Fire & Ice ~ The Drake Legacy: Book One by Kari Wray

focussing on me with an uncomfortable intensity.  
    “Hi, Kelly,” Xander said, a possibly-false smile spreading across his face as he nodded at her. “Kelly, this is Cassie, Cassie, Kelly.”
    “Hey,” I said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.  
    She was rake-thin and I realized there was something a little reptilian about her too; maybe her flickering tongue or her narrowed, green eyes.  
    “I’ve not seen you for months , sweetie,” she said, immediately turning her gaze once more to Xander. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore …”
    “Ha ha,” Xander laughed uncomfortably. “I’ve just been busy. You know how it is. And anyway …”
    The awkwardness between them was so palpable that I decided to let them sort whatever it was out on their own. I nodded towards the main doors, which led out to the foyer and the bathrooms.  
    “I’m just going to go and powder my nose,” I explained, handing Xander my drink. “I’ll be back in a moment …”
    I turned and left them to it, striding purposefully towards the door, feeling just how flimsy my dress was against my bare skin, knowing that my full, curvy figure was showed off completely beneath it.  
    My head was spinning a touch from the wine and I did need the bathroom, but I also felt a pang of something else too …  
    Was it possibly jealousy?  
    Did I detect some sort of chemistry between Xander and that nasty skeleton back there?  
    Just as I was pushing out of the doors to the hall, I looked directly into a set of burning blue eyes and my stomach flipped over on itself.  
    Shit. It was that guy again … The very same one from the bar … The one who’d been staring at me so intensely that night with Lauren. What the hell was up with that guy?  
    Tonight, he was dressed in a pure white tuxedo — dressing purely in white seemed to be his style — and his blonde hair was slicked back tightly against his head.  
    “Hey, you!” he said, loudly, and I looked over my shoulder before turning back to face him, realizing that it was me he was talking to.  
    I raised an eyebrow at him, assuming he’d mistook me for someone else.  
    “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he continued, striding straight towards me across the lobby.  
    “I … I don’t think so …” I stammered, unsure whether or not I should mention the bar the other night. But I just couldn’t think of a way of phrasing it, without sounding like a complete weirdo. (Or making him sound like one: “Oh yeah, you were that stranger who was just outright staring at me all night!” )
    “Really?” he continued. “I’m sure I know you from somewhere.”
    “Afraid not …” I said, stepping backwards away from him.  
    And as I was almost out of reach, he did something I couldn’t quite believe: I felt his cold fingers grab my bare arm, just at the crook of my elbow.  
    I turned and raised my hand to slap him; no man had the right to handle me like that.  
    “Hey!” I hissed, yanking my arm out of his hot, firm grip.  
    “Whoa, sorry,” he smiled, his icy blue eyes burning into me like magnifying glasses. “I just wanted to give you my card before I left this stupid ball.”  
    At this, he pulled a bright white business card out of the trouser pocket of his suit and held it out to me.  
    “Thanks,” I said, snatching it violently from his fingers, making sure to use the same kind of force he’d used to grab my arm.  
    And then, very deliberately, I let go of the card, right there in front of him, letting it flutter dramatically to the floor, wiping that smug, icy smile off his stupid, chiseled face.  
    I span on my heel and made a line for the bathroom door, my heart pounding and hammering against my ribs and the breath shivering tightly in my throat.  
    Once I was safely locked inside a cubicle, I pulled up my dress and — before sitting down to pee — I slipped my fingers for a brief second into my silky red g-string, registering with a