Before I knew it, he was in front of me, those eyes burning deep into me as he came to a halt a foot from me. I could smell his aftershave, something strong and sharp and masculine that filled my senses and sent me floating a few feet off the ground. He was a lot to handle. He was even hotter closeup, like, male-model perfect, and I was struggling to remember how in the hell I was supposed to introduce myself.
“I’ve been watching you all night,” he remarked, and the words sent a shiver down my spine. A waiter passed by us, and he plucked a couple of glasses from the tray the waiter was holding and passed one to me. I downed it in one gulp, hoping the booze would take the edge off the nerves racing through my system.
“I know,” I finally replied, and he laughed.
“Was I being that obvious?” He cocked an eyebrow, but if he was sorry, he didn’t seem it. He sipped on the champagne as I let the empty glass hang down by my side, my fingers barely holding on to the crystal. I still couldn’t believe he was talking to me, that he had spent enough time watching me to know he wanted me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated me this way, with such obvious and blatant desire. And I couldn’t remember the last time I had returned it.
“A little,” I admitted, and I lowered my gaze for a moment. Should I tell him I had seen him in the pool earlier? No, I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to know I’d been thinking about him all day, since I had first laid eyes on him.