Page 25 of Ethan & Grace

I didn’t bother protesting again. It didn’t matter how attractive I found Grace, how much our verbal sparring matches aroused me, or how many times in the last year I’d fantasised about bending her over my kitchen counter in that maid’s outfit—nothing was ever going to happen between us.

“Fine, I’ll stay away from them. But I’m not sitting around here all night being all broody with you. I want to have some fun.” The way he emphasised the word made it perfectly clear what kind of fun he meant.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

I didn’t have to tell him twice. He leapt to his feet, gave my shoulder an encouraging pat, and bounded off after the woman in the blue dress, who had walked past our table at least three more times by now.

My attention snapped right back to Grace and her friend. They were still at the bar, but no longer alone. Two men had joined them. Grace’s friend laughed about something one of the men had said and laid a flirtatious hand on his arm. Grace, on the other hand, kept her distance.

I watched the scene for a while. Eventually, Grace’s friend and one of the men made their way to the dance floor, leaving Grace at the bar with the other. It didn’t take a genius to see she had zero interest in him. Her smile was forced, and she was putting as much physical space between them as she could. The guy finally seemed to realise that he was fighting a losing battle, said goodbye and melted into the crowd.

As soon as he left, Grace’s smile faded. She turned back towards the bar so I could only see her back, but her slumped shoulders told me all I needed to know. The memory of her breaking down before me returned unbidden.

I couldn’t imagine what she was going through, but I knew what pain felt like. I’d had my share of sadness and, above all, loneliness. I was so familiar with that feeling that I recognised it as soon as I saw it. Grace was lonely. In this club, surrounded by hundreds of people, she felt abandoned. Maybe just by her friend, or maybe by the entire world. I doubted that I, of all people, could take away her loneliness, but I didn’t want to leave her alone with it either. I decided to check on her. Just for a moment, to make sure she was doing OK.

10

Spotted: Ethan Darlington at Club Opening. The Lost High-Society Playboy Returns!

INsider online comment

Grace

I watched as Callum was swallowed up by the crowd. The poor guy had done his best to make a move on me, but he had never stood a chance. Not because he wasn’t attractive or nice, but because I simply wasn’t in the mood. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be picked up. I wanted to go home and continue investigating—if you could even call it that, since all I had so far were two long lists. The logical next step was probably to take a closer look at the guest list so I knew who I was contending with. “Know your enemy” and all that.

“Well, look who we have here.”

A deep voice jolted me out of my thoughts.

I looked up and straight into the bluest eyes I knew—Ethan Darlington was leaning against the bar beside me. My breath caught in my throat. Holy shit! The INsider’s online poll had got it right: Ethan was the hottest face in British high society. And without a doubt, the most attractive man in this club. He looked incredible, like a fantasy come to life. His dark trousers and black shirt accentuated his athletic body—he had rolled up the sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms. His black hair was slightly tousled, not styled, but that somehow only added to his sex appeal.

“Like what you see?” Ethan asked, noticing my silent admiration. A self-satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. It should have put me off, but unfortunately, it only made me blush. The effect this man had on me was nothing short of unfair.

“Not in the slightest,” I said, trying to sound indifferent.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you weren’t drooling.”

“You’re imagining it.”

“Come on, Gracie. You can admit you find me hot as hell,” he said, resting his elbow casually on the bar. “Honesty is the best policy.”

“You want honesty?” I folded my arms across my chest. “Your arrogance makes me sick.”

He leant closer, laughing. The seductive scent of his cologne hit me, cutting through the stuffiness of the club and clouding my already shaky ability to think straight in his presence. “I’m confident, not arrogant,” he corrected, scrutinising my dress. I caught a flash of desire in his eyes, and I tried not to let the tingle of longing between my thighs show on my face. “Which is why, unlike you, I have no problem admitting that I like what I see—very much.”

“I . . . You . . . What?” I stumbled over my own words. Heat spread through me, sparing no part of my body.

“You look stunning in that dress.”

“Is that a joke?”

“No, it’s a compliment,” he said with a smug smile, clearly enjoying how much his confession had thrown me off guard. In the past, I’d caught him watching me now and then, but I’d never thought much of it. I wasn’t exactly his usual type: easy prey.

“A compliment?” I echoed.

“Yes. It’s a fairly common term. Do you need a dictionary?”

I snorted. “It’s impressive how you still manage to be an arsehole even when you’re trying to be nice.”