The Guardian by Keisha Orphey

nose and a square chin complimented his teeth and goatee.  But it was his green eyes she found herself focused on.  They were irresistible.  He’d witnessed death with those eyes and possibly at his own hands.  Those eyes didn’t miss a beat.  Right now they were boring straight through her and as she found it nearly impossible to look into them, she sensed the urge to cross her arms defensively.
       “Commotion?  Me?  No, I just know what I want--” Nicoli drank from a glass of water never taking his eyes off of her.
       “And that is --“
       “To talk to you.  Alone.  If that’s alright.  I saw you looking at me and I was obviously looking at you.” Nicoli was gorgeous and the first to ever intimidate her.  He’d accomplished it so easily.
       Dawn took a moment to respond, as if mulling it over, then: “How do you know Joe?”
       “Let’s just say Joe and I are … associated.  We know a lot of the same people.”  Nicoli removed a bottle of champagne from a bucket of ice perched beside the table.  He poured himself a glass and gestured at Dawn.
       She declined.  “Thank you, but I’m still at work.”
       Nicoli’s face captured the light of the candle’s flame as he slouched back and regarded her with magnetic eyes.  In the ensuing silence, Dawn's expression and the manner in which she sat with her shoulders squared and her back rigid, told Nicoli that she was uncomfortable being alone with him.  Not just being alone with him, but in his presence.  Period. How would she explain this man to Philip if he just so happened to come to the casino in an attempt to make up for the way he’d allowed her to leave home that night?  No hug.  Just a quick peck on the cheek.  He hadn’t even wished her a good night at work.  Sure, he was at home with the kids, but an unannounced visit was possible.  They’d hired babysitters before.  She was nervous and the clanging sound of metal startled her.
       Two waiters approached the table holding large serving trays above their heads with a single arm.  Each waiter placed a plate on the table in front of Dawn and Nicoli. Lobster and steak dinners.
       “Could I get you anything else, sir?”
       “No, that’ll be all.”
       “And for you, ma’am?”
       “No, thank you.”
       The waiters walked away from the table leaving them alone in a secluded area of the restaurant.
       Dawn took a deep breath and exhaled.  Dinner would be over soon.  Hopefully, Nicoli would get bored of her and eat quickly, yet neither Nicoli nor she had touched the meal.
       A vague look of bewilderment beamed in Nicoli’s eyes.  “Why do you avoid looking at me?  Do you not like what you see?”
           “Excuse me?” her brow wrinkled with bemusement.
       Of course she’d been looking at him – noting every angle of his form was perfect, every curve of muscle salient and extraordinary.  From the way his body moved to the gesture of his hands, this man took her breath away.
       A moment, then: “Come here.”
       She stared back at him, expecting a burst of laughter, but there was none.  Not even a glint.  Sincerity prevailed. What was she going to do?  Go to him?  Then what?  Straddle his lap like an exotic dancer as she had in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind earlier that evening?  Of course not, but then she saw him stirring, standing and moving toward her, a glass of champagne in his hand.
       “What are you doing, Nicoli?” The words slipped off her tongue breathlessly, as if he were removing his clothes …or hers.
       Unwavering, he affirmed the obvious: “Coming sit beside you.”  His jeans made a whiffing sound against the leather as he sat in the nearest chair and sipped from the glass.  With wet lips, he whispered: “Don’t be nervous,