Although, she was finding that she was starting to like it when he called her by the nickname. The tone of his gravelly, deep voice curling around her name—the full-length version or shortened one, didn’t matter which—was enough to send butterflies of anticipation dancing in her tummy. He was overwhelming. What was wrong with her, reacting like that to someone she barely knew in such a wanton way?
She decided to take a quick shower and change clothes before heading down to dinner. Hopefully, the water would help cool her overactive hormones. She had planned to rest, but that was out of the question now. Thanks to Cyrus, her body was humming with energy.
* * * *
Cyrus stripped off his clothes and turned the knob marked Cold . He stepped under the freezing spray of the shower, barely flinching at the sting against his skin, and stood under the water for a long time, refusing to relieve himself of his horniness with his own hand.
He had gone too long without a body, and when he came for the first time in this one, it would be inside a woman, even if it killed him to wait.
Not just any woman. He wanted to come inside Izzy.
He gritted his teeth against the aching throb in his groin. In the end, despite the cold, his willpower was what finally succeeded in encouraging his erection to subside…for the time being.
Chapter Six
Dinner was an awkward event for Isabelle. By the time she’d made it to the dining room, Cyrus was already standing on the far side of the room, wine glass in hand, talking to Scarlet.
He took her breath away, dressed in all black—jeans that hugged his perfect thighs and ass, boots, and a silk shirt that showcased his wide shoulders and muscled chest. She imagined the six-pack-abs under that shirt. She hadn’t seen them, but she’d felt them when she’d been draped over him earlier.
She closed her eyes to calm her traitorous body, and when she opened them, his unsettling gaze rested upon her, watching her as if he could read every one of her thoughts.
Her cheeks flamed hot from embarrassment. If he were able to read her thoughts right now, she’d wither up and die. A part of her wished she could read his, though, or…
Maybe not. She was a jumbled, confused mess inside, and wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted at the moment.
Scarlett poured some dark wine into a glass and brought it to Isabelle. “This is the most delightful wine. You’ll love it. It is sweet, with just a pinch of spice for kick.”
“Thank you, Scarlett.”
Needing something to distract her attention away from Cyrus, Isabelle took the glass with shaky fingers and drank it down... Damn . It was the best wine she’d ever tasted.
“Oh! That is wonderful.”
What did you expect? A five-dollar bottle from the liquor store around the corner? The woman was loaded, and she could afford the best of everything.
But Scarlett didn’t strike her as one of those rich people who enjoyed rubbing their wealth under everyone else’s nose. She seemed like a warm, caring, genuine lovely person. Isabelle had had a lot of wealthy clients over the years, and while she could honestly say most of them had been pleasant, none had Scarlett’s personality. And none came close to wearing the amount of makeup Scarlett wore. Yet, that particular attribute—one that would appear gaudy on most—only added to her character.
Cyrus swaggered over to them with the wine and refilled Isabelle’s glass. She thanked him and went to stand by the sideboard—made of marble and wood, of course—to examine the picture that hung above it. Not normally much of a drinker, tonight she would make an exception. She wasn’t going anywhere, and she had every right to indulge on occasion.
She didn’t miss the way Cyrus’s gaze rested on her as she studied the painting on the wall. Nor did she miss the smirk on his beautiful lips, the one that told her he knew she was aware of him and trying hard to ignore him. He made her uncomfortable in a way
She decided to take a quick shower and change clothes before heading down to dinner. Hopefully, the water would help cool her overactive hormones. She had planned to rest, but that was out of the question now. Thanks to Cyrus, her body was humming with energy.
* * * *
Cyrus stripped off his clothes and turned the knob marked Cold . He stepped under the freezing spray of the shower, barely flinching at the sting against his skin, and stood under the water for a long time, refusing to relieve himself of his horniness with his own hand.
He had gone too long without a body, and when he came for the first time in this one, it would be inside a woman, even if it killed him to wait.
Not just any woman. He wanted to come inside Izzy.
He gritted his teeth against the aching throb in his groin. In the end, despite the cold, his willpower was what finally succeeded in encouraging his erection to subside…for the time being.
Chapter Six
Dinner was an awkward event for Isabelle. By the time she’d made it to the dining room, Cyrus was already standing on the far side of the room, wine glass in hand, talking to Scarlet.
He took her breath away, dressed in all black—jeans that hugged his perfect thighs and ass, boots, and a silk shirt that showcased his wide shoulders and muscled chest. She imagined the six-pack-abs under that shirt. She hadn’t seen them, but she’d felt them when she’d been draped over him earlier.
She closed her eyes to calm her traitorous body, and when she opened them, his unsettling gaze rested upon her, watching her as if he could read every one of her thoughts.
Her cheeks flamed hot from embarrassment. If he were able to read her thoughts right now, she’d wither up and die. A part of her wished she could read his, though, or…
Maybe not. She was a jumbled, confused mess inside, and wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted at the moment.
Scarlett poured some dark wine into a glass and brought it to Isabelle. “This is the most delightful wine. You’ll love it. It is sweet, with just a pinch of spice for kick.”
“Thank you, Scarlett.”
Needing something to distract her attention away from Cyrus, Isabelle took the glass with shaky fingers and drank it down... Damn . It was the best wine she’d ever tasted.
“Oh! That is wonderful.”
What did you expect? A five-dollar bottle from the liquor store around the corner? The woman was loaded, and she could afford the best of everything.
But Scarlett didn’t strike her as one of those rich people who enjoyed rubbing their wealth under everyone else’s nose. She seemed like a warm, caring, genuine lovely person. Isabelle had had a lot of wealthy clients over the years, and while she could honestly say most of them had been pleasant, none had Scarlett’s personality. And none came close to wearing the amount of makeup Scarlett wore. Yet, that particular attribute—one that would appear gaudy on most—only added to her character.
Cyrus swaggered over to them with the wine and refilled Isabelle’s glass. She thanked him and went to stand by the sideboard—made of marble and wood, of course—to examine the picture that hung above it. Not normally much of a drinker, tonight she would make an exception. She wasn’t going anywhere, and she had every right to indulge on occasion.
She didn’t miss the way Cyrus’s gaze rested on her as she studied the painting on the wall. Nor did she miss the smirk on his beautiful lips, the one that told her he knew she was aware of him and trying hard to ignore him. He made her uncomfortable in a way
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