Suddenly, he turned serious. “You’re on the wall of academic achievement. You are a freaking legend.” He cocked his head and studied her for a long moment. “Why aren’t you proud of that?”
She stuttered, “I… I… am. You’ve seen my diploma in my office. It says I graduated with distinction. So I’m advertising it.”
He slowly shook his head. “No one would even see that unless they walked right up and read it.”
She turned then and charged on. She couldn’t argue with him; the man always had an answer.
But she would never forget those kisses. Never forget the feel of his hands on her. Never.
Yet she could never let it happen again.
No matter how much she wanted it.
She was gorgeous, even when she was racing away from him. He could still smell the sweetness of her lotion, still taste the slight sheen of perspiration on her skin—a potent combination.
Her scent floated back to him as he followed her. As she drove him damned near crazy with the sway of her hips and those tiny shorts, with the smoothness of her shoulders, the muscles of her arms as she pumped her way up the hill, her calves flexing.
He’d never wanted a woman more. He’d never wanted a kiss to go on and on. Five minutes later in that grove, he would have had her top down and the delectable rosy tip of her breast in his mouth.
Maybe it was a good thing the guys had come along when they had. Because that was not how he wanted her, with four college-age young men interrupting them and ogling those beautiful breasts.
But he’d definitely been about to lose control.
That was a first for him. He liked to be in control of his lovemaking. That way, there were no surprises.
But everything about Michaela Killian was a surprise. On Stanford’s wall for academic achievement. A freaking legend whose exploits were taught in economics classes. There was so much more about her to admire than he’d ever thought.
As they headed back along the loop and the terrain suggested they were getting close to the parking lot, he took a gamble. “You know, I’d like you to come to one of the talks I’m giving.” A week ago, he’d worried about her judging him. Now, he wanted her beside him. “I don’t know if you remember when we were at Gareth’s art show that Gideon asked me to give a talk to some foster kids he mentors who are aging out of the system.”
Her ponytail bobbed as she nodded. “I remember.”
“I’m meeting with those kids on Wednesday at six thirty. It’ll be informal. I’d like you to be there. I think you’d be a great inspiration to them.”
In her surprise, she almost lost her footing. “Really?”
“Yes.” If she knew he was asking her out on another date, she’d say no. But if she thought it was because she’d be an inspiration to those kids—and she truly would be, he meant that wholeheartedly—then she couldn’t refuse.
But no mistake about it: Dinner after the book signing had been a date. The cruise was a date. And this hike. If she agreed to go to his talk, that would be a date too.
Every time he was with her, it was a date. A glorious date.
She was blushing again, and he suspected she was flattered. “Well, that would be nice. But you’re the real inspiration.”
She was so modest. Maybe she didn’t even know what an inspiration she truly was.
He was about to say, Then it’s a date, but at the last moment, he decided not to push his luck. “Great. I’ll pick you up.”
“Get me at the office, okay? I probably won’t have time to go home.”
“All right.” He’d rather pick her up at her house, but he’d take what he could get.
And he would taste her again. Because he craved the feel of her in his arms, craved the taste of her. He also didn’t buy her reasoning that she’d brought all his favorite things for lunch only to repay him.
She’d done it because she liked him. Even if she wouldn’t admit it.
And she wanted him too. Her kiss had told him everything.
He would show her how much better it could get.
