9

The combination of the martini and shots was slowly dropping my inhibitions, especially as I glanced toward Gabby, who had moved to the other side of the table, closer to Natasha and Carrie, her facial expression urging me on.

“I don’t know.” I glanced down; all of this was too much. “I guess I like the way you sound.”

“My voice?”

I nodded as I was fixed on him again. “Yes.”

“No one’s ever commented on that before.”

I took a drink even though I didn’t need it. “It matches you—I mean, it fits your face, your …” I couldn’t think of what I wanted to say. Nothing was coming to me. I didn’t even feel like I was breathing. “Exterior.”

The corner of his lips lifted, a half-smile so devilishly attractive. “Exterior, huh?”

“If power had a sound, it’s you.”

He was sitting between both tables but chose to lean his elbow on the one closest to me. “My voice isn’t where I hold my power, Sydney. At least, not in my personal life. But I’ll tell you, it wasn’t a bad guess.”

My brain was spiraling.

My legs were already feeling weak.

“No?” I swallowed. “Then, where?”

He licked across his bottom lip and said, “Here.”

His mouth.

Because of the things he could do with it. The way he could use it to make a woman feel.

I’m dying.

“And here,” he said, holding his hands on the table.

I’d noticed his fingers long before this, and I didn’t doubt their strength.

Their talent.

Their ability.

“A refill,” one of the guys said to Ford, breaking our contact, placing a drink in one of his hands.

“Thanks, buddy,” Ford replied.

I almost gasped when his eyes found mine again, the feeling so overwhelming.

“Are you sure you don’t want another one?”

I shook my head. “I’m sure.” My martini was still half-full, and I brought it up to my lips. “It’s already working. I’m not tired anymore.”

In fact, I couldn’t feel anything.

Except him.

“That didn’t take much to get over your jet lag.”

I huffed out a mouthful of air, not knowing how to say he’d made it disappear. But I had to say something, so I glanced around the bar. “It must be the energy in here.”

“Or it’s me.”

I felt my eyes go wide as they connected with his.

He reached forward, and I held in my breath, expecting his hand to land on me but it didn’t; it just tugged on the hair that was stuck to my lip, moving it out of my face.

“What’s your last name, Sydney?”

“My … last name?”

He smiled. “I’ve now bought you a drink, and I’ve shown you the sources of my power.” He winked. “It seems only fair that I know a little more about you.”

“Summers.”

“Sydney Summers,” he said, his tone the grittiest it had been so far. “I like that.” He took a sip of his new drink, sucking one of the ice cubes into his mouth. “I’m Ford Dalton.”

“Ford Dalton,” I repeated. “That’s like the perfect celebrity name.”

“No interest in being one of those.” He paused. “I like right where I am at.”

“In life or …”

“Right now.”

Oh.

Gabby was right.

This man was dominant.

I let his response simmer, my chest pounding, my hands steamy even though they were wrapped around the chilly martini glass.

“You know how I ended up here tonight.” I glanced behind him at his friends. “What’s your story?”

He shrugged. “The guys were going out, and I was craving a drink.”

I would have needed the break and looked around the bar. Not Ford. He stayed glued to me.

“This is one of our favorite spots. The rest … you’ve witnessed.”

Because he’d spent that time with me.

First at the bar.

Now here.

Where I swam through his gaze.

Had it been seconds?

Minutes?

I had no idea.

“I have this feeling about you, Sydney. This hunch that won’t go away.”

“Yeah?”

He moved a little closer, our faces now aligned, to the point where I could even see his eyelashes. “You’re really not the kind of girl who cuts off people in line. Something tells me you’re a healer, not a fighter.”

I nodded and said, “You’re right.” I exhaled. “I don’t know how you know that.”

He shifted just a few inches, the movement causing his coat to part, showing more of the button-down he wore beneath. With the collar open, I could see there was a hint of muscle and a light dusting of hair. “I’m reading you, Sydney.”

“If that’s true, then what else do you know about me?”

“Do you really want to know?”

My heart was on the verge of exploding.

My lungs couldn’t take in any more air.

There was shaking happening from somewhere inside me, but I couldn’t place it, and I couldn’t stop it.

“Yes.”

“Your breath hitches every time my eyes land on you. The longer I stare, the harder you breathe.” His voice lowered again as he continued, “Your skin is heating. There are goose bumps slowly rising over your arms.”

I could feel them.

The sweatiness too.

He was right.

About everything.

His mouth moved even closer. “There’s a tingle inside your body. You’ve been trying to repeal it, dismiss it. But you can’t.”

The tingle had been replaced with fire.

One that was so strong that it owned me.

And I was completely, utterly lost.

“Do you have the same ability, Sydney?” He waited. “Are you able to read me?”

I shook my head, unable to form any words.

This time, when he reached forward, his hand landed on me. It held my cheek as his thumb pulled at my lip—I hadn’t even realized I had been chewing on it—and he freed it from my teeth.