Under the heavy drape of the tablecloth, Vardis’s large, leather-gloved hand slowly drifted from my knuckles, sliding down to rest directly on my thigh.
He began to massage the smooth silk of my dress, his touch deliberate, firm, and dizzyingly warm.
My heart did a violent flip, a fierce jolt of heat racing straight up my spine. It was incredibly awkward, a sensation so intense it made my hands tremble. I looked over at his dark profile, swallowing hard.
"Excuse me," I whispered, my voice slightly breathless. "I need to... wash my hands. I’ll be right back."
Vardis paused, his fingers tightening on my thigh for a lingering second as if reluctant to release me. Finally, his hand slid away, and his head turned slightly toward me behind his dark shades. I stood up, offering him a quick,
