Page 6 of Beautiful Venom
Maybe if I make a run for it, I’ll be able to get out of here?—
“Am I that scary? I promise I don’t bite.” The note of amusement in his tone breaks the flow of my thoughts.
God, why the hell does this man’s deep, gravelly voice sound like it’s out of my darkest, most delicious dreams?
He sounds relaxed. Inviting, even.
Maybe it’s because of that, or the fact that my legs are done carrying me, but I choose to seize the opportunity. The probability of having another one-on-one encounter withtheKane Davenport is slim to none. He’s always surrounded by people.
All the time.
Everywhere.
Anywhere.
He’s the magnetic field people find themselves pulled toward.
I’m the people. People are me.
With a sharp exhale, I slowly stand. My knees burn and my legs feel numb. In a swift movement, I remove my baseball cap and pat my hair into submission until the long, wavy brown strands smoothly settle beneath my breasts.
My sister Violet told me first impressions matter the most, and I hate that I’m not dolled up for the meeting I’ve been planning for weeks. But I did put some makeup on earlier tonight and I’m wearing flattering jeans that mold to my curves and a beige top that contrasts nicely against my deep olive-toned skin.
Sure, I could look better, but I can also work with this.
This will either make or break my plan.
After sucking in a deep breath, I look down, and I’d almost forgotten how effortlessly gorgeous Kane is.
Almost.
He leans against the boards, arms crossed, stick hanging from his hand, looking both unsettling and nonchalant. The opposing impressions he gives off are jarring and force goosebumps to surface on my skin.
The dark-blue hockey gear adds a sense of foreboding to his already intimidating physique. Despite a few rows of seats separating us and my average height of 5’6”, he still looks intimidatingly tall.
A slight smile touches his full lips. “There you are. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”
“Hi.”
Shit.
I don’t sound weak. Ever. What on earth is wrong with me?Calm down, for God’s sake.
“Hello.” His smile remains the same, exuding politeness. It’s even welcoming. “May I ask what you’re doing here at this hour?”
“I stayed behind after the game.”
“I could tell. Why?”
“I…I’m a fan!” I blurt the first thing that jumps into my head.
Why the hell didn’t I think of that before? Actually, I did. Fleetingly. But I figured the Vipers already had too many fans throwing themselves at the team members at every opportunity. So that wouldn’t have made me stand out from the crowd.
But now that we’re alone, it might.
“I see.” The two words are followed by intense eye contact that’s strangely devoid of warmth. I’m being scrutinized, but there’s no sense of connection.
The glacial pale color of his eyes is similar to sinking into the Arctic Ocean as layers of ice form on the surface at an alarming speed.
