Chapter Fifteen
Act in haste, repent in leisure.
Playing it cool I’m not as I stand outside waiting for my overdue cab. The late afternoon sun is still hot enough to scorch the pavement, its rays rebounding from the surface and burning my work tired feet. At least I’d had the presence of mind to wear ballet flats today.
I’m not dressed for the weather, the fabric of my dress is unforgiving in the heat, making it feel like some kind of horse-hair/latex mix. It had seemed like a good choice for a daytime meet, not too overt. Functional, with a side order of sexy. A sort of I-like-that-you-look-but-I-won’t-allow-you-to-touch kind of dress.
Wonder if it’ll work?
Just before my body reaches the chemically correct point for melting skin from bone, my cab arrives.Hurrah!
The hotel foyer is sublimely cool after the taxi’s crappy air con but as sweat beads on my back, I further regret my choice of dress. I imagine a dark spot forming at the base of my spine and pull the fabric away from my skin in a flapping motion as, with a sinking feeling, I realise I don’t knowwherewe’re supposed to meet. There have got to be at least a dozen restaurants here.Then, all of a sudden, Kai takes my hands in his much larger ones, mid-flap.
‘You’ve kept me waiting.’ His is a serious tone and for reasons I don’t understand, it makes my stomach flip. Dressed in dark jeans and a gleaming white shirt, he looks pristine and polished, with just an edge of rogue.
He towers over me, making me feel tiny, helping me recall how amazing it felt to be held by his arms. Flustered, I blink rapidly and stare up into his mock-admonishing expression.
‘S-sorry, my cab was late.’
‘Forgiven. I hope you’re hungry.’ His eyes glitter in the setting sun as he steps backwards, leading the way.
But for Kai and myself, the elevator is empty as the doors close in a soft susurrus. He leans closer, his nearness stealing the breath from my lungs. My breath hitches in that instant, an instant where I can almost taste his mouth. I tilt my head as, eyes lustrous, his hand reaches out, fingertips brushing my waist. My entire skin ignites, my heart pounding loudly as I anticipate the touch of his mouth over mine...Then I realise he’s reaching for a button on the elevator panel next to my hip.
My heart stays on the ground floor as the elevator rises, my shoulders following suit.
‘I thought about it.’ The words are delivered in a low rumble, his hand grasping mine, lightning fast. Where they join, a very masculine watch covers his wrist. The kind I imagine comes with an instruction manual to decipher its many dials and functions.Breitling, maybe?
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Your poker face leaves a bit to be desired.’ He glances at me pointedly, challenging my pretence with his fingers at my chin. Raising both my face and the stakes, he kisses me softly, pressing me against the wall.
‘Someone will see.’ I make a half-hearted attempt to pull from his arms, conscious of the elevator doors and their propensity for opening unexpectedly.
‘And if I’d acted on your expression?’ he whispers hotly against my ear. ‘Because there’s no hiding what’s on your mind.’
‘Maybe you need glasses,’ I rasp, extracting myself from his embrace precisely one moment before the doors ping
‘Don’t ever play poker, kitten, unless it’s strip and with me.’ Laughing, he guides me into the restaurant at rooftop level, his hand pressed against the small of my back.
Music, soft Arabic fusion, fills the cavernous room as we bypass the bar on our way to a table marked reserved. Persian rugs cover wooden floors, metal lanterns glowing with a muted amber hue. We sit as directed by the hostess, under a canopy masquerading as a Bedouin tent. I lay my head back and sigh contentedly, soaking in the ambiance and regional feel.
‘You look beautiful.’ Kai’s expression is solemn, his gaze intense. I try not to squirm, murmuring a half-hearted protest.
‘Stop looking at me as though I’m edible.’ I look nice, but beautiful is a stretch.
‘Then learn to accept a compliment. Or stop looking so...ripe.’
Thankfully, the waiter interrupts us before I’m required to form a reply. Although addressed in English, Kai answers in Arabic. I’m fascinated by the exchange, watching his mouth wrap around the unfamiliar and exotic sounds. The waiter, a lean, boyish looking African national, stares at Kai just a fraction longer than necessary, mesmerised as he flips through the menu, his long finger trailing the pages.
‘Do you do that on purpose?’ My eyes follow the retreating waiter, narrowing at his lingering cow-like glance.‘Why’d you suppose God gave men all the good lashes when they don’t even wear mascara?’
‘Sorry?’
‘You.’ I wiggle my fingers in the direction of the waiter. ‘On purpose, with the beguiling.’ Kai’s brows rise in bemusement as I carry on. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he slips you his number along with the food.’ Though I think maybe he’d like to slip him something else.Or maybe he’d like it the other way around; who can tell?
With no more than a cursory glance, Kai blinks solemnly before exhaling an inelegant snort. ‘Not my thing, I assure you. I’m much more interested in what’s sitting on your chair.’ His gaze flicks exaggeratedly down.
‘So much for wanting to talk. You just want to get into my undies again.’
