CHAPTER86
The dance is nice, very grand with an awesome Asian theme. Authentic costumes are everywhere; exotic canapes and cocktails are flowing freely, and my eyes are dazzled with all the sparkling décor. There are a whole host of droning speeches before the dance gets underway and, as usual, the flashing of a million cameras. I’m so used to them nowadays that I never really notice anymore.
“Dance, Miss Anderson?” Jake is back in his charming and happy mode and dazzles me with a gorgeous, relaxed smile.
“Certainly, Mr. Carrero.” I take his hand and follow him through the crowd to join other guests; it’s a slow song and he moves me expertly. Dancing with Jake is fast becoming one of my favorite past times. Like everything he does, it’s with a smooth, confident capability that seems annoyingly easy for him.
“It’s a good thing you have a young female PA,” I smile up at him, feeling relaxed in his embrace and letting myself ooze into him.
“Why is that?”
“Saves you having to wine and dine leggy blondes on short notice, when you can’t be bothered, or have a hangover,” I smirk, inwardly glad he has no date with him tonight.
“I guess. Although that stiff double whiskey sorted me right out.” He’s smiling; he seems relaxed tonight despite his earlier weird grumpiness, and he’s got that casual, laid back vibe.
“What’s with that anyway?” I ask curiously.
“What’s with what?” He looks over my head and nods at someone trying to catch his attention, ever sociable Carrero. Back to swaying with me to the music, he seems distant suddenly, but I know he’s trying to avoid my gestapo-like questioning.
“The lack of leggy bosoms lately?” It’s been in the back of my mind, his lack of playmates and sleep overs for weeks now.
He shrugs and spins me around, pulls me back into his arm playfully and lightly smacks me on the butt. I throw him a mock alarmed look; the tug of his grin is not lost on me, and I get that warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach at his good mood. He’s so much more mellow since we landed.
“Lost your sex drive or merely misplaced it?” I press.
“Nope.” He’s smiling, but that guarded look is back with my probing. He’s being deliberately evasive, pulling out a bit of irritation from me.
Oh, so we’re playing the one-word answer game, are we?
He looks amused at my dry expression.
“Bored?” I press.
“So-so. Just taking a break,” he shrugs and looks over me again, this time winking at another attention grabber.
For goodness sake.
“You do that, do you?” I cock my head to the side, studying his chiseled jawline, the sparkle of his mystical eyes in this light. He looks particularly handsome tonight.
“Sometimes.”
I doubt it very much. I’m pretty sure from my research of all his years of social endeavors, I never saw a break in the flow of women, but maybe some of them were just stand in dates like me, PAs and assistants, when he couldn’t be bothered.
“Are you sick?” I know I’m prying but I pretty much live with him, and I know how much he likes a roll in the sheets and, by my calculations, it’s been a while since the last one. A long while.
“Not that I’m aware.” He throws me a quizzical glance with raised eyebrows that says, “Where are you going with this?”, but he’s still smiling. He catches my hand and holds it to his forehead with a furrowed brow, asking, “Do I have a fever?”
I pull my hand free and shake my head at him in exasperation. We go back to swaying, but my brain is still mulling it over.
“You’re not …? You know …?” I hesitate as the telltale heat runs up my cheeks, and I curse myself for asking this.
“What?” he laughs now; I think he knows what I’m going to ask, and it’s absolutely hilarious to him. He has that amused look on his face, the all-knowing eye.
How does he do that?
“Having man problems?” I blush furiously."
