The air between them was thick with something volatile—something unspoken yet undeniable.
Adrian leaned back in his seat, fingers idly tracing the rim of his whiskey glass, his gaze locked onto her. Valeria mirrored his ease, but the deliberate way she crossed her legs, the slow, fluid motion that parted the slit of her dress just enough to reveal the smooth, tempting curve of her thigh, was anything but unintentional.
He noticed.
Of course, he noticed.
His eyes flickered downward for just a fraction of a second before returning to her face. Calculated. Controlled.
But she had seen that slip. And that alone made her smirk.
She lifted her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip, watching the way his gaze darkened. "Are you always this persistent, Adrian?" she mused, tilting her head.
Adrian smirked, exhaling a quiet chuckle. "Only when something interests me."
"And I interest you?"
His blue eyes held hers, steady. Intent. "You do."
Valeria let the moment stretch, savoring the way the tension curled between them like smoke. She set her glass down, her fingertips skimming the rim. "Is that curiosity? Or suspicion?"
"A bit of both."
She exhaled a soft, amused breath. "Honest. I didn't expect that."
Adrian leaned forward slightly, closing the space between them, his presence intoxicating. "You don't strike me as a woman who likes surprises."
"Depends on the kind," she countered smoothly, her lips curving. "But you, Adrian… I think you hate them."
His smirk remained, but his eyes sharpened, assessing. "I prefer to be prepared."
"For everything?"
"Everything."
Valeria let the moment simmer, the heat of his gaze pressing against her skin. He was trying to unravel her. Trying to strip away her layers with nothing but words, nothing but the deliberate weight of his attention.
So she pushed back.
She leaned in just enough that the scent of her perfume curled around him—dark roses and something wicked. Her lips barely parted as she murmured, "Then tell me, were you prepared for me?"
Something flickered in his eyes—something deeper than simple attraction.
Interest. Calculation. Hunger.
His fingers tightened around his glass, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then, low and quiet, he said,
"Not entirely."
A slow thrill curled in her stomach.
She let the corner of her lips curl, her gaze never wavering. "I like that answer."
Adrian studied her for a long moment, then slowly set his drink aside. His movements were deliberate as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a single poker chip.
Black and gold. High stakes.
He set it down between them, spinning it between his fingers.
"One more round," he said. "No cards. No money." His voice dropped, rough with challenge. "Just a bet."
Valeria arched a brow, intrigued. "And what are we wagering?"
Adrian smirked. "A question. You win, you ask me anything. I win…" His gaze flickered with something darker, something unreadable. "I ask you anything."
She let out a soft hum, pretending to consider it. But they both knew she had already decided. He was pushing her, testing her, waiting to see if she would flinch under the weight of his game.
She wouldn't.
Valeria reached forward, her fingers grazing his as she plucked the chip from the table.
"Deal."
Adrian leaned in, his voice dropping to something deep, something meant only for her.
"The game is simple," he murmured. "I'm going to touch you."
Valeria's breath caught. Just for a fraction of a second.
Adrian saw it.
His smirk turned wicked.
"If you react…" He reached forward, his fingers skimming the inside of her wrist, featherlight, teasing. "You lose."
Heat licked up her spine at the casual intimacy of his touch—barely there, yet devastatingly precise.
Valeria forced her body to remain still, forced her breath to remain even.
Adrian tilted his head, his touch traveling higher, a whisper of fingertips over the delicate skin of her forearm. His eyes never left hers, as if daring her to break.
His touch was too controlled. Too slow. A deliberate study in restraint.
She wanted to shatter it.
Valeria parted her lips slightly, her voice low and smooth. "That's not fair, Adrian."
His fingers ghosted over the inside of her elbow, and this time, he was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin.
"Why not?" he murmured.
She exhaled a slow breath, tilting her head just enough to let her lips hover near his ear. "Because you're already losing."
His fingers stilled.
His jaw tensed.
And just for a fleeting second, Valeria saw it—the barely restrained tension in his body, the way his fingers flexed against her skin, the sharp inhale he tried to suppress.
She had him.
So she leaned back, her smirk slow and triumphant.
Adrian exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Clever."
Valeria reached for his drink, taking a slow sip before setting it back down in front of him. "I always win."
Adrian studied her, his gaze trailing from her lips to her throat, down to where the slit of her dress parted at her thigh.
Then, finally, he leaned back, his smirk dark and unreadable.
"You're dangerous, Valeria."
She tilted her head. "You're just figuring that out now?"
Adrian let out another low chuckle, then reached for his drink, his fingers brushing the rim where hers had been.
He took a slow sip.
And never took his eyes off her.