Delta: Revenge (6 page)

She took another sip, definitely feeling a tiny buzz, but more, she was feeling as if she didn’t have to conform to standards of polite conversation or appropriate jilted-wedding-day topics. “It’s happened before?”

He sucked a long breath through his teeth. “Yeah.”

“So, you’re disappointed and… sad?”

His expressive face faded to unreadable. “A little.”

But between the simple answer and the loss of his easy-to-read honesty,
a little
was bullshit. There was only one way to treat that. “Then you need more cake, Javier.” She tapped a manicured finger on the overfilled plate. “Cake is always the answer.”

He rolled his lips into his mouth, shutting his eyes for a moment longer than a blink as if trying to decide something bigger than icing and calories. “I have to head out.”

Her heart dropped, and she
wanted
him to stay. “Of course.”

“It was an absolute pleasure.” His dark eyes let the truth slip, and his words matched his feelings. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

She might be able to if only she could get out of this dress, gorge, and get a little buzz. Tomorrow, she could start life anew. But first priorities first: she needed to ditch the dress that she never would’ve picked. “Wait. Before you go?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

She grabbed the scissors and pressed the handle into his warm hands. “Cut me out?”

He coughed, and the man who’d seemed bombproof had eyes that were back to expressive, evocative. Even surprised. “Excuse me?”

Ignoring the stutter in her heart rate, Sophia pressed. “Please. Just a snip, top and bottom. Nothing scandalous, I swear.” Though the fact that she was babbling and heat crawled up her neck said otherwise.

His hand closed around hers, gripping the scissors. Her stomach dropped; her mind froze. Or raced. She didn’t know which. The electricity from his touch was far past unexpected. It was a tsunami of oh-my-gawd. The sizzle was more intoxicating than the uber-expensive champagne that’d given her nerves of steel.

His hand stayed over hers, and her breathing just stopped. She was completely lost in the moment of feeling alive and dizzy from his touch.

“Sophia…” He pulled her off the bed, and he was so much taller than her when they were hip to hip.

Dropping her chin but looking up through her eyelashes, she swayed. “Please? The back is sewn in.”

Their hands were still attached. She was able to talk, so she was still breathing, but each lungful burned shallow and heady. “They sewed the top and bottom so nothing would move.”

“Sewed?”

“Just snip the top.” She touched the back of her neck, then her hand dropped to the base of her tailbone, where the back was secured. “And here.”

His chiseled face twisted, amusement breaking the trance. “Seriously?”

Sophia rolled her eyes. “Please don’t make me explain the secrets of women’s wedding wear.”

His lips curled. “Okay…”

“I can’t get out of it. I mean, I could tear it, or just start at the bottom and work my way up. But you helping would go a long way. I don’t love the dress. It’s not me. But, really, it’s a work of art. I don’t want to destroy it, but if I don’t get out of it, I’m going to
die
.”

He tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling.

“What are you doing?”

He laughed loudly before facing her again. “Praying.”

“
What?
”

“I’m from Brazil. My people pray for everything. Lost keys. Holy days. Everything.”

“You’re religious?”

He gave her a playful grin that was more devilish than a question about God should allow. “Not particularly.”

“So, why are you praying?”

“Sophia.” Javier’s voice had dropped a dozen octaves and gone straight between her legs. Her heart managed to beat, but breathing seemed to stop. “You’re gorgeous. You’re sexy. You’re… asking me to
cut
that dress off you? I’m
praying
for strength.”

Her head went light. Knees like noodles. Oh God. Did he really say all that? “I…”

“Turn around, Sophia.” His large, warm hands braced on her shoulder, pivoting her, then they slipped down her back, skimming across her lace-covered skin.

Snip
,
snip
, and she could breathe. Every sensation and indecent thought evaporated as the way-too-tight dress loosened. Better than sex. Almost. Or at least, sex with Dr. Josh, though maybe not with Delta Javier. God, she shouldn’t be thinking like that. But seriously… “God, that felt good.”

“Not normally how I get that reaction, but I’ll take it.” His fingertips drifted along the hollow of her neck, skimming to her shoulder. It wasn’t an innocent touch. It wasn’t provocative. They were safely in the land of questionable and erotic, where her skin was prickling and her body was on fire and growing wet for his touch.

Semicapable of stifling a hitched breath, she turned to face him, memorizing the fact that he was flushed too. “Thank you.”

“
Não faz mal.
” Javier tugged his bottom lip into his mouth before letting go. “No problem.”

“Okay, so…” She loosened the ribbon that had run the length of her spine, and his eyes became darker, more intense. That honey-warm, tingling-all-over feeling had amplified, and she was almost too turned on to be aware of how awkward she must look in the loose dress. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” His voice was just as quiet as hers.

Spellbound, Sophia forced herself away to tame her easily broadcast thoughts. She crawled onto the bed and grabbed her cake—ignoring him, her shaky breaths, and disappointed hormones—and focused on the next best thing: sugar. Cake. Calories. Fondant. Her original grand plan. Anything but the six-foot-tall daydream of a man watching her. But when she looked up, Javier hadn’t moved.

“What’s a matter?” she asked, not touching the cake.

He took a step closer, away from the door, his exit. The pink tip of his tongue darted out and licked his bottom lip. “You’re just going to eat cake and get drunk by yourself?”

She shrugged with fake nonchalance while imprinting the vision of him licking his lips in her memory. “Not everyone’s ideal wedding night. But turns out it’s a good thing for me.”

What could’ve been a perfect predatory gleam in his eyes froze. Yeah, she’d mentioned the wedding. Hell, she was
partially
wearing her wedding dress. That had to be enough cold water for anyone. Anyone except her.

He shifted as though he wanted to retreat yet needed to join her on the bed. “Do you want me to find, I don’t know, a girlfriend of yours?”

“Not really.” She wanted
him
to stay. To touch her. Take her. Hell, feed her cake again. Just stay in the room with her. But it’d be great if he chose a lot more.

“Why?”

Javier wanted to have a conversation, and she was feeding him cake, naked, in bed. Sophia tossed her head back.

“What’s funny?” Javier asked.

“Nothing. God. Everyone wants to powwow over the good doctor Josh, and I’m done.”

Javier smirked. “The good doctor Josh?”

“Think that’s what my mother calls him. He’s a pediatrician. Apparently, the job of saints.”

“And you’re done. Just like that?”

She nodded. “Decision made. Actions have consequences. I should’ve seen it but didn’t. It’s time to move forward.” She pointed. “With calories and alcohol.” And happy thoughts about a Latin Delta man.

He pinched his eyes closed. “You are not what you seem, Sophia Cole.”

God, he had no idea. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

“You’re not what you seem either, Javier don’t-know-your-last-name.”

Then he leveled her with a stare that made the Cole house twist sideways. “Almeida.”

“Javier Almeida,” she repeated as though it needed reverence. “That’s…” Perfect. Exactly suited for him. “Beautiful.”

“Glad you think so.”

He was tall, dark, and exotic. His muscles bulged. He could wear the hell out of formal wear, but she’d seen him in jeans and a T-shirt yesterday before the rehearsal dinner and thought he’d make one heck of an action-movie star. Cut body and chiseled face. Not that she was checking out the scenery the night before the big day, but when a man that looked like this guy walked into a room, it was impossible not to notice.

She hadn’t interacted with him much, hadn’t even stared directly at him, but here she was, sinking into the bottomless abyss of his soulful brown-black eyes.

Her eyes dropped to the Berber carpet. “The champagne’s made me lose my mind. Apparently.”

Her fingers knit into the silk skirt, and she concentrated on avoiding him, suddenly aware of how much of a goof her normal self was, when this guy had smooth charm. Her peripheral vision caught him moving, stopping next to the bed. He extended his hand, two fingers touching under her chin to raise her face. Every cell in her body reacted as his touch fell away. Heart thudding, Sophia locked eyes with him. “Nice to chat with you, Javier. I’m sorry that I’m blathering.”

He shook his head. “Not nice,
gatinha
. You’re here for a fucked-up reason. Because an asshole didn’t appreciate you, and a best friend didn’t stay loyal. Blather if you want.”

Sweet too? A breath lodged in her throat. Everyone had been overly nice and too accommodating as she said her hellos. They’d said everything except what Javier had said. All their words sounded like blah, blah, blah, blah. But he’d cut through the BS. “Dang.”

His lips quirked. “Dang, what?”

“
You.
No one said anything like that all night.”

His face warmed and gentled. There was an indescribable, almost imperceptible change in his demeanor, but it was there. “Most people are selfish. They comfort others to comfort themselves, and it is complete bullshit. Know that, and you’ll do fine in life.”

How she needed to hear that. “Javier… I don’t want to eat cake alone.”

“I…”

“Please stay.”

He tilted his head toward the headboard as though it was an invitation to sit back there. She expected a rush of excitement at his agreement, but the flood was more appreciation than arousal, warm and fuzzy. Like a hug.

“Thanks.”

Together, they moved across the fancy comforter to the carved-wood headboard. It would’ve been awkward, but nothing about their odd conversation and crossed personal boundaries felt that way.

Sophia took a deep breath and let her gaze shift over the bedroom. This house was so not her. There were fine china and crown molding that had been designed especially for the place, which was absurd, since the accent pieces looked identical to stuff found in any hardware store. The formality was strangling her. Just like the dress—and just like the idea of marrying Josh when she’d stood at the top of the altar.

She kicked her high heels across the room, flinging them with more effort than she meant to use, then wiggled her free toes. “I hated those things.”

He laughed, making himself more comfortable with a pillow behind him. “Are you drunk?”

“Probably buzzed. Pass the cake.”

He reached to the nightstand, and they shared a fork back and forth, alternating bites.

Licking icing off her lips, she smiled. “Can you imagine what the pearl clutchers would say?”

“To what?”

“To hiding away. To not wearing pantyhose on my wedding day. To me not playing the role of hostess in a house that was built to entertain. To eating cake in my loose dress while my dad and brother are likely torturing Josh.”

His silent laugh shook his chest. “Fuck Josh.”

“Fuck Josh,” she repeated, turning to see his head in his hand. “I’m sorry you had bad news earlier.”

His heavy sigh hurt her insides, and she turned, tucking her legs under her and accidentally touching her knee to his thigh. Even through her dress, electricity zipped through her.

His eyes jumped to their knee touch, and she didn’t pull away. After a quiet moment, he leaned back, stretching. “Life continues. I try to also.”

A lot was loaded in those few words, and she didn’t know what to make of it. “Where are you from?”

“Brazil.”

“What did you do? Military, police?”
Gladiator.
He had that hulking, dangerous look.

“No, I wasn’t military like Colin. Delta recruited me, trained me.”

Interesting. She reached over him and took a long, unladylike sip of her champagne. “Why?”

His powerful shoulders lifted as if to play down whatever he would say. “Because I’m good.”

“Good at…?”

But he didn’t reply, so she pressed for an answer as she replaced the bottle. That close to him, he was warm and smelled faintly like cologne, making her mouth water. Ignoring that reaction, she sat back and hoped not to forget his scent. “They went to another country and found you?”