A brief nod. “I did. I wish I’d gone into one of your restaurants back then, though. Maybe we would have met sooner.” His eyes darkened at that, undeniable heat simmering there.
She felt her cheeks warm up just a bit at the boldness in his gaze. She still wasn’t sure she felt anything for him and loathed herself for it. Loathed that after a decade she still had lingering feelings for a man she knew she’d never see again. It was her own fault, but it didn’t lessen the emotions one iota. Glancing away, she nearly dropped her glass when she spotted Nathan freaking Ortiz moving around the edge of the dance floor, headed her way.
Nathan. Ortiz.
Had she lost her ever-loving mind? She gave herself a hard mental shake and looked away. When she found her gaze drawn directly back to the man again, she realized that, no, she hadn’t lost her mind.
Taller than her—but who wasn’t?—muscular, yet lean, he filled out his tuxedo with absolute perfection. He had the sleek lines of a graceful predator. Though he wasn’t looking at her, there was no doubt in her mind that he’d seen her and was making his way over. He was moving with far too much purpose. What was he doing here? Was he living in Miami again? The last she knew, he’d joined the Marine Corps, but that had been twelve years ago. She guessed he could be on social media, but she only had accounts for her business, not herself, so she didn’t know. She’d been tempted a time or two to look him up, but had never followed through.
Just watching him move was like watching— Gah, she couldn’t even think of a good analogy, but a low-grade heat started building inside her, her nipples tightening almost painfully in awareness. The man was even sexier than she remembered, but there was nothing boyish about him anymore. He’d been eighteen the last time she’d seen him, so he’d be almost thirty now. He had a bit of scruff on his face, not a full-on beard, but oh sweet Lord, he was gorgeous. She absolutely hated that her body just seemed to flare to life at the mere sight of him. Like a switch flipping, she didn’t even feel like herself right now. She wanted to crawl out of her skin to escape this surreal sensation of watching the man whom she’d never gotten over make his way toward her and her date.
Amelia tore her gaze from Nathan as he disappeared behind a cluster of people and focused on Iker, who was still smiling at her. Guilt suffused her, but thank God he couldn’t read her mind. She wanted to ask him to dance, to drag him out onto the gleaming wood floor and get away from Nathan. If that made her a coward, she didn’t care. When Iker plucked a new champagne glass for her from one of the passing servers, she didn’t protest.
“I’d like you to meet an associate of mine,” Iker murmured, slipping his arm around her waist in the same way he’d done around Naomi, only this time his grip was tighter, less casual. Definitely a male-territorial thing, if she had to guess.
When she turned in his arm, looking up to meet his associate, she shouldn’t have been surprised to see Nathan. But the shock of seeing him up close was a punch to her senses. Blood rushed to her face, and she inwardly cursed her reaction.
“Amelia, this is Miguel Ortiz.”
Miguel? Nathan’s eyes were the same dark espresso she remembered. She didn’t know what to make of the name Miguel, but didn’t comment on that. If he was using another name, she figured he didn’t want to admit they knew each other. So she didn’t acknowledge that she knew him and instead smiled politely as she held out a hand.
He took it, shook her hand almost stiffly, formally. It was weird touching him again after so long. Just feeling his skin against her brought up far too many memories. Ones that should stay buried. The man had always been so talented with his fingers and mouth. So, so talented. Something she shouldn’t be thinking about.
“A pleasure to meet you.” His words were raspy, but it was clear he didn’t plan to acknowledge her either. Okay, so he was definitely using an alias.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious why. No matter what, she certainly wasn’t going to call him out in front of anyone else. She swallowed hard, forcing her throat to work. “You too.” Two words—she was a freaking rock star. She swallowed again, this time subtly. “Are you in antiquities too?” she asked, looking between the two men, thankful that she seemed to have herself under control.
Nathan looked at Iker, something dark in his gaze. “Something like that.”
She wasn’t sure what passed between them, but Iker seemed annoyed. He was still all charm, but something had shifted.
“Would it offend you if I asked your date for a dance?” Nathan asked, his gaze perfectly placid and polite. But there was something in his eyes she couldn’t get a handle on.
“I don’t speak for Amelia.” Iker’s voice was butter smooth.
Now Nathan turned that laserlike focus on her again. “Will you dance with me?”
A soft Cuban beat filled the air as the lights dimmed a fraction. “Ah . . .” She glanced at Iker. She didn’t want to be rude, and they’d both already danced with other people earlier in the evening. Still, it felt as if it might be impolite to say yes, but she really wanted to talk to Nathan—or Miguel—and ask why he was using another name and why he was in Miami. For a brief moment she wondered if he was in some sort of criminal business, but almost immediately she discarded that idea. The Nathan she’d known had seen the world in black and white. He’d been so damn honorable about everything. Since she wasn’t going to find out by guessing, she let her curiosity win. “Do you mind?”
Iker’s expression was soft as he shook his head. “No, but save the next one for me.” Surprising her, he kissed her forehead in a sweet gesture.
Before she could react or think, Nathan took her hand and she found herself in his arms. She was glad she’d worn heels, so she was better matched for him, height-wise. He was right at six feet tall, the same as Iker. But Nathan’s presence was somehow bigger, more intense. Of course that was probably just to her, not the entire room.
As one of his big hands landed on her hip, more of those stupid memories pushed up, including the one of her at his school’s prom. It had been so damn cliché, but they’d lost their virginity to each other after the prom. It was a sweet memory, one she’d always cherished. Despite the surreal quality of the situation, she wanted to lean into him, to soak up all of him. It had been so long since she’d seen him, since she’d ended things with him in the worst way possible, and it was difficult to believe he was here.
“The beard’s new,” she murmured as they swayed with what could have been a practiced rhythm. It seemed that years of separation didn’t affect that. Their movements might as well have been choreographed.
To her surprise, a hint of a smile played across those full lips. “How long have you been with Iker Mercado?”
“I don’t answer your questions, Miguel, until you tell me why you’re calling yourself—”
The grip on her hip tightened, a clear indication for silence, before he gently spun her in time with the steady beat. She was incredibly grateful for the simple three-step dance pattern. Unlike some of the complicated dances from earlier in the evening, this one she could do without thinking. Which was good because way too many questions invaded her mind. He was obviously being secretive for a reason and she wanted to know why. Her mind circled back to the criminal angle, but she couldn’t make that work in her head. It didn’t fit. Still, twelve years had passed. People changed.
They were silent as they danced, and though she figured she should probably wonder or care if Iker was watching them, she had eyes only for Nathan. But as she looked into his dark eyes it was a reminder of all she’d lost. Pain she thought she’d locked up bubbled to the surface, clawing at her insides. If she thought too hard or long about everything that had gone down between them, she’d slip into a funk and not be able to get out of it for a day or so. She couldn’t do that now.