“The accent,” she says like it should be obvious. “She was hoping you’d talk all sexy to her.” Harlow rolls her eyes at her friend's insanity. “So, are you?”
“Am I what? Going to talk all sexy to her?” I drop the tone of my voice and delight when the roughness of it makes her pupils dilate. My brows pull together as I cast my mind back over our previous conversation, trying to figure out what she’s asking me.
“No. An arsehole,” she says, adorably trying to mimic my accent.
“Some would probably say I was. Others not so much.”
“Cryptic.”
Closing more of the space between us, I reach out and tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Maybe you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”
Her lips part but no words come out as my fingertip brushes the shell of her ear. “I… um…” I search her eyes, trying to read her. She seems reluctant, yet there’s something in her eyes. Something wild that I know is screaming to get out.
Our connection holds before she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and my gaze drops to watch.
“Harlow,” that familiar voice calls from somewhere. “We’re going to dance. You coming?”
My eyes jump back up to hers. I want to ask her to stay here with me, but I’ve just met her; I’ve got no right to even suggest keeping her away from her friends and colleagues.
After another second, she rips her eyes from mine and looks at Bailey, who holds her hand out.
“Yeah, just coming.”
I stand back, allowing her some space. She downs her drink before giving me a small smile and walking towards her friend.
Her arse sways as she makes her way over, and my trousers suddenly seem a little too tight as I imagine what, if any, underwear she’s got on beneath. When I look up, I find Bailey watching me. Her eyes are narrowed, and I’m not sure if it’s jealousy or a warning.
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