Amber's POV
Simoun was tense beside me, and I looked over at him. His eyes were trained like a hound, and his nostrils flared with his breaths. Something was wrong. After the evening we were having, that meant something was really wrong. Things had been going well, and his icy smile had quickly morphed into one of genuine pleasure. I followed his eyesight and pierced the crowd, trying to figure out what had stopped him in his tracks.
Then, I saw it.
A man approached us.
He was tall, but not as tall as Simoun. Just under six feet, if I had to venture a guess. He was an attractive man, but completely the opposite of Simoun: dark, brooding brown eyes, thick jet-black hair, tanned skin that made it seem as if all he did was stand in the sun and sip cocktails. He walked with a swagger that
