“I’ll take Cullen,” Lisa said half seriously, “and you can go for the guitar player.”
Corinne flashed a saucy smile. “He’s too good to be true. Men like that break hearts everywhere they go. They have that element of danger because they really are bad boys. Women think they can change them, but the truth is, they’re bad and there’s nothing to be done about it. If you’re a smart woman, which I am, you only stare at them and fantasize; you don’t go near them or you get your fingers burned. I’ll just listen to him play and be very happy.”
Cullen made his way through the crowded club back to the booth where the two women were seated. He had no idea what he was going to say to them. The blonde was striking terror in his heart. He couldn’t possibly become interested in a woman, not with a pack of murderers hounding his footsteps. Very carefully he set a bottle of water before each of them.
Lisa smiled up at him and scooted over, allowing Cullen to sit beside her. The room was crowded and it was very loud. She wanted to hear every word this man spoke. Corinne shifted slightly to give Lisa a little more privacy to work her magic. Lisa deserved to find a nice man. Someone. She would need someone very soon.
The music continued, but Corinne noticed the moment Dayan stopped playing. The beauty and clarity were gone from the music, leaving an okay group making up for their lack of genius with enthusiasm. She couldn’t help it; she stole a quick look at him from under her long lashes. He was standing up, a casual, almost lazy move that reminded her of a large jungle cat stretching. He was careful with his guitar, setting it against the far wall out of reach of any light-fingered fans or rowdies. For a brief moment he surveyed the crowd, most of whom were staring up at him in rapt adoration. A flicker of what could have been impatience crossed his face.
He turned his head and looked directly at her. Instantly she felt the weight of his stare. Intent. Hungry. Corinne’s heart seemed to stop beating. He was looking at her – not at his friend and not at Lisa, but straight at her. Their eyes met across the room, and immediately she could feel that mesmerizing pull. A spell of enchantment. Dayan leaned down and said something to the lead guitarist and then stepped off the stage. Over the crowd his black gaze held hers captive. Corinne couldn’t look away.
Her heart was going crazy and her breath refused to enter her lungs. She could only stare helplessly at him, watching as he crossed the room to reach her side. Strangely, no one spoke to him, not a single woman in the crowd. Everyone moved quickly out of his way so that he approached her without interference. He stood at their booth, his black gaze seeing only her. Up close, he was even more intimidating than he’d been across the room. Power clung to him like a second skin. And he was more than sexy, he was darkly sensual. Terrifyingly so.
The band swung into a slow, dreamy song, and Dayan reached down and captured her small hand. “I need to dance with you.” He said it like that, starkly, without embellishment, without worrying about his vulnerability. He needed to touch her, to hold her close in his arms. He needed to know she was real and not a figment of his imagination.
Corinne couldn’t have resisted him for any reason. She let him take her over, pulling her with exquisite gentleness to her feet, drawing her into his arms, close to his body. She held the palm of her hand over his strong heart. At once she could feel his heat, feel his solid, muscular frame. Her heart was beating overtime, and she felt strange. In another world. A dream world. Floating. He was taller than she was by quite a bit, yet she fit into him perfectly, as if she were made for him.
He bent his dark head to hers. “Breathe.” He whispered the word against her skin, and her entire body came alive. Just like that. Every nerve ending. Every cell. His breath was warm and his arms were incredibly strong. He held her almost tenderly. It was a kind of magic, and she knew instinctively he was feeling it too.