I didn’t know how it had happened, but I was drunk. Lolled into a sense of warmth and complacency, and I couldn’t stop myself from heading toward what had to be a gentleman. The problem was, if I stopped to ask this one for help, he’d most likely take advantage of me. Or maybe that was only wishful thinking . . . He’d probably only give me a rude stare.

“I didn’t expect you to like Elvis Presley.”

I was assuming just because I could.

Nicolas glanced at me with a half-lidded amber gaze that always sent my pulse racing. “Every time you’ve assumed, you’ve been wrong.”

I took the remaining steps toward him, eating up the electricity that spanned between us with each click of my heels. “That’s not true.”

I stood by his side, perusing the liquor decanters. Close enough my shoulder brushed his chest. Close enough my skin danced with awareness.

“Yeah? Then what have you gotten right?”

I reached across him for the gin, pretending that my arm grazing his didn’t affect me at all, when in reality it sent a rush of warmth low in my stomach. “I assumed from day one that you were an asshole, and I was right.” I paused with my hand on the decanter, not believing that had come out of my mouth.

A hint of a sly smile pulled at his lips, almost as if he was thinking about something inappropriate. “Is that the first time you’ve said asshole?”

“Yeah. Did I use it right?” I tugged off the lid and poured some liquor into my glass.

“Could’ve been better.”

I frowned, a little affronted. The first time I used a curse word to insult someone and it was lame? Maybe I didn’t have it in me. I glanced at him, and a sudden wave of shyness overcame me when I noticed he’d been watching me.

“How so?” I added some tonic water and lime to my glass.

“It was pretty unmoving.” He had one hand in his pocket, while the other brought his glass to his lips as he looked around the room.

“How would Nicolas Russo do it, then?”

His gaze settled on mine. “If I was going to insult you, I’d make sure to leave you thinking about it for a while.”

I stirred my drink, feeling like stirring up something else. “So show me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You want me to insult you?”

I nodded, took a sip, and then licked the gin off my lips. My breath turned shallow when his gaze fell to my mouth and darkened.

“Thought I did that yesterday.”

“Really? I’ve already forgotten.”

The tiniest bit of amusement crossed his expression, and he ran his tongue across his teeth, a calculating stare coasting around the room. We were sort of secluded, the guests closest to us having their backs turned. Although, when I was in his presence it always felt like we were alone.

He shook his head. “I’m not going to insult you.”

“Why? Are you acting like a gentleman tonight?”

“Nah. Just don’t care to.”

I scoffed. “That’s because you don’t have a good one—”

A breath of shock escaped me when his rough palm gripped the side of my throat and he pulled me to him. His lips pressed against my ear.

“You look like a slut in that dress, Elena.”

A violent shudder rolled through me.

My eyes closed as his warm, masculine scent sank through my skin and sent a hum through my veins.

His words softened. “Only good for one thing, and it’s not running your pretty little mouth.”

I couldn’t breathe with his body pressed against my side, his dirty, insulting words in my ear. He ran a thumb down the goose bumps on the back of my neck, and then his grip was gone. I stared blankly as he grabbed his drink and walked away, leaving me with a parting word.

“That’s how I would do it.”

“You can be the moon and still be jealous of the stars.”

—Gary Allan

“MAMMA, DOES THIS DRESS MAKE me look . . . easy?”

My mother sipped her cocktail with a straw, a crease forming between her brows. “Well, cara mia . . . you did sleep with a man you couldn’t have known very well.”

“Mamma!” Adriana scolded.

There were few moments in my life when my mother and sister’s roles switched, but it had happened.

“I didn’t ask if I was easy. I asked if I looked easy,” I sighed.

The truth was, this dress was tight. And by “tight” I mean that I didn’t try it on at the store and when I finally got around to putting it on it fit two sizes too small. But it was just too pretty to stay in my closet.

“You don’t look easy, Elena,” Adriana assured.

Benito sat next to her on the couch, his arm resting across the back. He gave my dress a cautious expression and scratched his jaw. “Well . . .”

“Ugh, just forget it.”

I headed through the throng of people toward the patio area and pool. The chatter dissipated as I walked out the double doors and into a hot, still night. The terrace was empty; the only company tall buildings and their yellow lights filling the horizon.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glanced at the nighttime sky. “No stars,” I said quietly. I had a feeling they would be visible at Nicolas’s red brick house.

“Scorpius.” The voice was cool.

Christian’s presence brushed my side as he came to stand beside me. “Scorpius is there.” He nodded to where my gaze was focused, with a flat gray sky staring back.

“And there?” I pointed a little to the left.

A small smile pulled on his lips. “Aquila.”

I had a feeling he could name every constellation and each star they were made up of. It suddenly felt like he was completely out of my league. Cop or not.

A sigh escaped my lips. My head was light, my inhibitions unhindered by the alcohol I’d consumed.

“Don’t enjoy parties?” he asked.

“No, I do. Honestly, I’m shallow in that regard.”

He laughed. The sound was deep and rough, and a shiver coasted down my spine. He even laughed like an Adonis.

“How do you know so much about the stars?” I asked.

“Grew up in an old farmhouse in Iowa. Sometimes there was nothing to do but stare at the sky. Got tired of not knowing what I was looking at.”

“Well, that was a decent explanation, but it was a lie. Try again.”

I blinked. That would have never come out of my mouth a year ago. I would have accepted the lie and moved on. Maybe I only needed to become an alcoholic for the courage to free myself from my childhood chains.

I saw the tiniest smile out of the corner of my eye. “Studied astronomy abroad. Wanted to impress French girls right into my bed.”

“Even more unbelievable. Have you seen yourself?” With that face, this man wouldn’t have to impress anyone.

Another smile. “How did you know the first one was wrong?”

“You’re colder than the Arctic. You don’t become that way in a friendly small town. That’s city living, most likely on your own. No wonder you found yourself on the wrong side of the law.”

Small shake of his head. “Heard a lot about you, Elena Abelli. Can’t say you’re what I was expecting.”