It was almost odd, she mused, completing another turn of the dancefloor with a random, handsy old man: her thoughts kept wandering back to Agent Wilcox. It wasn’t in any sort of romantic fashion–she had no illusions there, this was pure lust–but to have her mind preoccupied when there was dancing to be done was new. Aside from the more carnal pleasures of life, one of Claire’s favorite things to do was dance. She could be whoever she wanted with whoever she wanted, and no one would look twice, because good dancers put on a show. People expected them to take on a role, and every now and then, Claire wanted nothing more than to slip out of her own skin. To have that indulgence interrupted every time she spun past the buffet table…it was distracting and she scolded her subconscious. Later, pet…
Yet her treacherous mouth insisted on reminding her of how he tasted, even as she parted with one partner for the newer, younger (though no less handsy) model. She pursed her lips together to fight off the memory and made it through a few more switches before the music finally came to an end. Claire, slightly winded, rescued a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped greedily at it as Jai sidled his way back to her. Bright eyes followed him, enjoying his commanding walk and another handful of curious stares directed at them both. She didn’t want to see the expression on her brother’s face, so she took Jai’s arm before she could find William’s eyes in the crowd.
“You should’ve danced,” she purred into his ear as they reached the table. “It would’ve given me a preview of what I can expect later.” Her expression didn’t betray her lascivious comments, and she sat without so much as blinking, though she did nod her thanks at him for pulling out her chair. William, taking his own chair on her right, took one look at Jai and rolled his eyes. It was fortunate he wasn’t overly worried about security or he might’ve been mad at Claire for distracting the agent. His attention turned to the waiter, though, as he came to the table to take their orders from the offered dishes.
Pouring her own glass of wine, she opened the small menu and put it between them. “Several things, depending on your proclivities. The fanciest of steaks, a few varieties of chicken, any side dish you could imagine–I recommend the red skin potatoes myself–and a buffet of desserts that will make any sweet tooth ache.” But that wasn’t the sweet ending Claire was thinking about. Her mind was already in the bedroom, sampling his culture by way of the kama sutra.
Turning that thought to her advantage, she quirked a sultry smile at Agent Wilcox. “Personally, I’m in the mood for Indian food…”