Chapter Three
Focus, Elena. Focus.She splashed some cold water on her face, then reached for the paper towel, and rolled a good amount into a ball to pat her face. What the hell was happening?
Concentrating on her lies, or filtering the truths she could feed him, was a hard task. Especially when he was so close to her, with the nuances of his spicy scent pushing through her nostrils, and his extra-large sized football player body within a couple inches from hers.
Smoothing her hands over her blouse and skirt, she took a breath longer than the Colorado winter. For whatever reason, he wanted to take her out to eat. She just had to make sure she wouldn’t be the entrée. A woman like her could never get involved with a bad boy like Devon. What would Doctor Hodge say? And why did her shrink have to go on vacation?
Sure, it had been three years since her divorce. Granted, her nerve endings sizzled like an overheated pan whenever Devon was around. But he was used to experienced, unbroken, sophisticated women in the bedroom department. Besides, if Matthew only knew she was all smitten by the opponent… The enemy.
“You can do it. You can do it.” She ran her hand down her bun.
“You okay?” the lady next to her asked. She slanted the woman a glance. A tall, blonde beauty who reapplied pink lipstick.
She shrugged. “Yes. Just a bit nervous.”
The blonde winked at her. “I don’t blame you. If I were having dinner with that hunk, I’d be nervous too.”
“Right?” She smiled, and headed out of the bathroom. See, this was completely normal. Devon was a super attractive guy, and any woman with a heartbeat would be nervous around him. Anxious. Excited.
A lump lodged in her throat. When she neared their corner booth, she could already feel his gaze warming her skin. The little hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she slid across the booth, managing to give him a neutral smile.
“Appetizer’s here.” He cocked his head toward the direction of the oysters.
“Interesting.” She glanced at the ice-poached oysters, and the sauces neatly displayed. “I’ve never tried it,” she said, eyes on the food. A small talk about a seafood morsel couldn’t land her in hot water, right?
“You don’t know what you’ve been missing,” he said, his voice dropping a couple notches. Somehow, the booth seemed smaller, or had he scooted next to her? Even though she wasn’t facing him, she just knew his gaze studied her profile, and she was on display like a mannequin in a window.
The thought hardened her nipples, and her clit tingled. Crap. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was about to reach for a glass of water, when he took a piece of oyster with his fork and lifted it to her mouth. Her mouth!
Ignoring the throbbing sensation in her stomach, she turned her head to face him. The second her eyes found his, air fled from her lungs. A silver sparkle flickered in his eyes, and was it her impression, or did his hotness go up a notch in the past minute? With his full, delicious—she guessed—lips parted, the man stared at her with an intensity that could probably move objects. She knew for sure, it wreaked havoc with her system.
Goodness. She opened her lips, and he dipped the fork into her mouth, without breaking eye contact. She swallowed the tasty morsel, while she still had complete control over her basic motor skills, and the chilled oyster slid down her dry throat, nice and smooth.
“Good girl. Do you like it?”
She touched her lips. “Yes. I heard a lot about it, but hadn’t tried it until now.”
“It’s not true, you know. About it being an aphrodisiac.”
“Who was talking about that? I meant how nutritious it is.” She shifted in her seat, and hoped her attempt at play lightened the mood. “I knew nothing about aphrodisiac,” she lied. She had heard about it, but had refused to try it during her marriage. The last thing she needed with Timothy had been more sex.
“It’s a myth that has been told over a thousand years. But never scientifically proven.”
“Does everything need to be scientifically proven for you to believe?”
“Not at all.” He tipped up her chin. She quivered. The texture of his rough hand against her soft skin sent little warning shivers down her spine. “For instance, the other day I was reading an article about the theories of attraction. There are many of them—based on DNA, physical appearance, similar interests. I don’t buy any of them.”
“Why not?” she asked even though an inner voice warned her not to. Was it so hard to steer the conversation toward the weather, politics, or a miraculous cellulite treatment she heard about?
He traced her jaw with his index finger, leaving a trail of simmering goose bumps wherever his flesh touched. “True, raw attraction can’t be explained. It shouldn’t. You just feel it.”
Darn it. She clenched her legs together so hard, for a second her clit stopped pulsing only to resume twice as powerful. No. Three times.
The thumping beats of her heart overpowered the whispers from other couples at other tables. Even the jazzy music from a piano player not too far away lost some of its charm. She knew she shouldn’t look deep into his eyes, and soak into his caress. That was obvious. That was safe. The right thing to do.
Yet… The feel of him so close, the way his eyes gleamed, and the wicked smile that spread through his gorgeous face clouded her judgment. “How can you be so sure?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
