After taking another sip of her wine, she was about to check her watch again when suddenly her skin heated. Was that desire floating in her stomach. Why? And for who? This was definitely odd.
Jillian searched the room in earnest as a quiver inched up her spine. Declining a server’s offer of another drink, she nearly dismissed what was happening as a figment of her imagination when she saw him. A man wearing a teal feathered mask stood alone on the other side of the room, watching her. So she watched back, letting her gaze roam over him. Was he the one who’d given her the rose? Who was he? Why was she reacting to him this way?
As she studied him she found him oddly familiar. Was she comparing the man to Aidan to the point where everything about him reminded her of her ex? His height? His build? The low cut of his hair?
She shook her head. She was losing it. She needed another drink after all. That’s when the man began walking toward her. She wasn’t going crazy. She didn’t know the when, how or why of it, but there was no doubt in her mind that the man walking toward her—mask or no mask—was Aidan. No other man had a walk like he did. And those broad shoulders...
He was sex appeal on legs and he walked the part. It was a stroll of self-confidence and sinful eroticism. How could he have this effect on her after a full year? She drew in a deep breath. That’s not the question she should be asking. What she wanted to know was why he was on the same cruise with her? She refused to believe it was a coincidence.
Her spine stiffened when he came to a stop in front of her. Her nostrils had picked up his scent from five feet away and now her entire body was responding. Sharp, crackling energy stirred to life between them. And from the look in his eyes he felt it, as well. Hot. Raw. Primal.
She didn’t want it. Nor did she need that sort of sexual attraction to him again. She blew out a frustrated breath. “Aidan, what are you doing here?”
* * *
Aidan wasn’t surprised that she had recognized him with the mask on. After all, they’d shared a bed for three solid years so she should know him inside out, clothes or not...just like he knew her. Case in point, he knew exactly what she was wearing beneath that clingy black dress. As little as possible, which meant only a bra and thong. And more than likely both were made of lace. She had the figure to handle just about anything she put on—or nothing at all. Frankly, he preferred nothing at all.
“I asked you what you’re doing here.”
He noted her voice had tightened in anger and he figured it best to answer. “I’ve always wanted to take a Mediterranean cruise.”
She rolled her eyes. “And you want me to believe you being here is a coincidence? That you had no idea I was here on this cruise ship?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying, Aidan?”
He placed his half-empty wineglass on the tray of a passing waiter, just in case Jillian was tempted to douse him with it. “I’ll tell you after dinner.”
“After dinner? No, you will tell me now.”
Her voice had risen and several people glanced over at them. “I think we need to step outside to finish our discussion.”
She frowned. “I think not. You can tell me what I want to know right here.”
In anger, she walked into the scant space separating them and leaned in close, her lips almost brushing his. That was too close. His bottom lip tingled and his heart beat like crazy when he remembered her taste. A taste he’d become addicted to. A taste he’d gone a year without.