Excited
about Vi Keeland’s upcoming release, Inappropriate?
Check out this SNEAK PEEK
I wondered if he’d be here.
I was mid-conversation with some
former colleagues I hadn’t seen in a few years when I got my answer. The sight
of him made me lose my train of thought.
On the other side of the room, Grant
Lexington stood wearing a classic black tuxedo. He was talking to an older
gentleman, which gave me the opportunity to really take him in—tall, broad
shoulders, yet not overly bulky, a narrow waist with one hand resting casually
in his pants pocket. Even from a distance, his confidence registered. There was
something about the way certain men held themselves that showed they were in
charge, and that really worked for me. It could take a man who was a seven and
make him an eleven in my book. On the other hand, a handsome ten with a meek
personality could be reduced to a five.
Mr. Confident held a drink in his
left hand and raised it to his mouth, but he stopped before drinking. He seemed
to sense something and looked around the room. When his eyes caught mine, a
slow, wicked smile spread across his face. He excused himself from the
conversation and strode toward me.
My body tingled as I watched him
approach with long strides, and I turned from the group I’d been standing with.
“What a pleasant surprise,” he said.
I tried to appear casual as I sipped
my champagne. “I’m filling in for Bickman.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
Grant eyed the group next to me. “Are
you here with a date?”
“No. You?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Would
a compliment be unwelcome? I wouldn’t want to sexually harass you.”
“Compliments are always welcome, Mr.
Lexington.”
His eyes sparkled. Taking hold of my
elbow, he led me a few feet away from the group I’d been standing with. “That’s
a dangerous thing to say to a man like me.”
“What was the compliment anyway?”
Grant’s eyes swept over me. “You look
beautiful tonight.”
I blushed. “Thank you.”
Grant stopped a waiter as he passed.
He gulped back the rest of the amber liquid in his glass and slipped the flute
of champagne from my hand, setting them both down on the waiter’s tray.
“I was drinking that.”
He motioned for the waiter to move
along and returned his attention to me. “I’ll get you more when we’re done.”
“Done with what?”
He held out his hand. “Dance with
me.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure that’s
such a good idea.”
He smirked. “I’m fucking positive it’s
not.”
★★★
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Vi Keeland is a #1 New
York Times, #1 Wall
Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books
sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are
currently translated in twenty-five languages. She resides in New York with her
husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after
with the boy she met at age six.
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