Authors: Jacie Floyd
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
She’d seen his offices, staff, and
company. The operation may not be making them rich, but it looked lucrative
enough to pay the bills with potential to do better than that. His
determination alone would ensure its success. She didn’t understand his
obsession about selling the Sleeping Lotus. Didn’t he realize there was more at
stake than money?
Reaching for her glass, Molly had it to
her lips before she realized it was empty. Gabe poured more wine for both of
them.
The waiter materialized again. “Dessert?
Coffee? Cognac?”
“Cappuccino for both of us.” Gabe
nodded, a kind of secret signal that sent the waiter scurrying away.
Molly gave the dessert cart a look of
longing.
“I’m sorry.” He took her hand again and
smiled. “I should have checked with you before I dismissed the waiter. Did you
want something more?”
“No, I couldn’t.” She pressed a hand to
her stomach. “Shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” His slow smile poured on the
heat and admiration.
“Poundage.” She pinched an imaginary
roll around her waist.
His gaze swept her appreciatively. “You
look perfect to me.”
A blush stained her cheeks again.
“Thanks. I do have a sweet tooth I try to control. The sweet has to be
spectacular before I allow myself the indulgence. If I’d known we were coming
here, I’d have suggested ordering the chocolate soufflé with amaretto cream
sauce. It’s well-worth the calories, but it takes an hour to prepare it.”
“You like the chocolate soufflé?” He
frowned. “I wish I’d known, and I would have ordered one for you. Would you
like to share mine?”
“You called ahead and ordered the
soufflé?” She stared at him and playfully punched his arm. “This seems
suspicious. How did you know that daisies are my favorite flower and this is my
favorite restaurant? How did you know that the chocolate soufflé is my favorite
dessert? Is this fate, or are you psychic?”
“Neither.” He realigned his flatware
beside his plate. “I guess you won’t chalk it up to coincidence or a couple of
lucky guesses?”
“You’re the one who doesn’t believe in
luck.”
A little guilty glimmer flickered in the
back of his eyes. “That’s right. I believe in making my own luck.”
“And how did you do that tonight?”
“I called your mother.”
Delight tugged with caution for control
of her emotions. “Why?”
“I wanted to make sure you enjoyed
yourself and approved of my choices for you.” His comment sounded off-hand, but
she read more into his guarded expression.
She still didn’t understand, but a
little surge of hope sprang up like dandelions in a rose garden. William’s
rejection must be more of a sore spot than she realized if she was so
desperately searching for admiration and attention. “Why?”
He hesitated. “For helping us out at the
office the other day.”
Her heart sank a notch. Plausible, but
disappointing. No real reason for her to think his consultation with her mother
was based on more personal motives. A couple of kisses—really hot kisses—didn’t
add up to a lifetime commitment, after all. Especially with her lack of faith
in such commitments. “Filling in for Terry wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was to me. To my business. To my
family.”
“I’m happy I was able to help.” Sipping
her wine, she tried for a smile. She didn’t want gratitude from him, damn it.
She moved to tuck her hair behind her ear and ran into the daisy still nestled
there. “Oh.” Her fingers plucked the flower free. “Did Mom suggest—did she tell
you to put—to do—umm. Well, darn.” She rolled the stem between her fingers,
swallowing a rising swell of disappointment.
“No.” He captured her hand between his
palms, drawing her focus back to him. “That was all me.”
“Well, that’s good then. Really good.”
She closed her eyes, trying to erase her bumbling speech, actions, and
feelings. Oh Lord, but he had her on edge. She grasped desperately for a
neutral topic to smooth away her awkwardness. “I really like your family.”
He shot her a disbelieving look followed
by a grimace. “Thanks, they’re great, but they’re not the easiest bunch to keep
in line.”
She had so little family left that she
couldn’t imagine anyone being less than enthusiastic about theirs. “Why do you
have to keep them in line?”
“Somebody has to.”
“Seriously?”
“Let’s just say they’re indifferent to
schedules, appointments, and other people’s rules. I don’t think any of them,
except Sierra, had ever held down a job for longer than six months straight
before we created Contract Communications. It used to piss me off the way they
always sponged off Granddad, and he doesn’t have the money to spare.” Gabe
pretended to be annoyed, but she could hear fondness beneath the exasperation.
“You’re good to them. It’s great you’ve
given them this opportunity, but maybe they prefer not to keep schedules,
appointments, and follow other people’s rules.”
“Right, and now they don’t have to.”
“Just yours.”
He leaned back, distancing himself from
her and her comment, examining it like a fake dollar bill. “Is that so bad?”
“Are they having trouble falling into
line?”
“Sometimes, but it’s for their own
good.”
“Good intentions are important, but what
about what they want?” She could see he didn’t want to answer her, although he
did sit still for a long moment. His family, his problem. He knew them better
than she did. She cleared her throat to keep from interfering further. “I’m
sure everything will work out.”
He contemplated her comment along with
his wine. “Really? How?”
She shrugged. “How would I know? They’re
your relatives.”
“And I would let all of them crash and
burn if it weren’t for Sierra and Chloe. And Granddad.”
“Why them especially?”
“Well, Chloe, obviously, is just a
little kid and a sweetheart. But where Sierra and Granddad are concerned, it’s
all about paybacks.”
“This sounds like a story. Do you want
to tell me?”
He opened his mouth then closed it,
turning with anticipation and relief toward the delivery of the soufflé.
After the waiter poured the decadent
amaretto sauce onto the soufflé and departed, she saw Gabe had retreated from
the personal conversation. He picked up a fork and cut into the dessert. The
gooey sauce and interior oozed onto the plate. Molly’s mouth watered.
“You first.” He held a bite up to her
lips.
“
Mmmm
.” The
rich chocolate and sauce coated her tongue. The sugar shot straight into her
bloodstream. The perfection of the moment went straight to her head. “Now you.”
His lips closed over the delicacy she
offered him. His tongue licked out to retrieve a sheen of chocolate that clung
to the tines. Her pulse leapt into a little flutter kick at his acceptance of
this small pleasure, imagining that tongue licking... licking... well, licking
her
.
Everywhere. Anywhere. Location didn’t matter.
The small gesture boded well for the
remainder of the evening. Not that she
expected
to share greater acts of
intimacy with him, but well, she
wanted
to. Desperately. She restrained
herself from fluttering her eyelashes and shimmying her breasts in the most
obvious way. “Tell me that’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
He paused as if considering, but his
eyes flickered with desire. His gaze settled on her lips. “
Almost.
”
Heat crept up her cheeks as she
remembered the kisses they’d shared. She still couldn’t believe she’d taken
matters into her own hands and kissed him. But she had an inconvenient habit of
looking before she leaped, and this time, she didn’t regret it. He was so careful,
so reserved, so precise in all his actions that she’d feared he’d never have
gotten around to kissing her if she hadn’t jumped in. But boy, he hadn’t
resisted taking the lead.
Even though his desire had been evident,
she wondered if he’d found her impulsiveness too pushy. He had a tendency to
want to call the shots at his own practical pace. She cleared her throat. “Um,
about Wednesday...”
He cupped her cheek with his palm and
pressed his thumb against her lips. “Please don’t say you’re sorry. It was the
highlight of my day. Week. Month, in fact.”
“Not too forward?”
“Forward is my favorite direction.” He
leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You can be forward with me
anytime.”
Tempted, she swept her gaze around the
dimly lit restaurant. “Like, now?”
The heat in his eyes cooled and he
leaned back. Way back. He cleared his throat. “No, not now.”
“That’s what I thought.” Deflated, she
used the soufflé to extinguish her disappointment. Even his surprises were
premeditated.
Except for that first day.
At the taping. When the two
pieces of jade slid into perfect place after a century of division. Hmmm...
“What?”
“I wonder why you’re reluctant to kiss
me here, when you kissed me at the taping of
Your Grandma’s Attic
. Do
you think it’s true that the Sleeping Lotus is an aphrodisiac?”
“No.”
“Then explain that first kiss.”
“Hey, you were the one hugging everyone
in sight. I just took it a step further. We were both excited over the moment,
plus I was attracted to you from the first.”
She beamed at the flattery until she
remembered his original lack of interest in her. “No, you weren’t. You didn’t
even notice me until you found out I had something you wanted. So it was either
greed, or the power of the Sleeping Lotus.”
“It was attraction.” He pressed his lips
firmly together. “It still is.”
“Prove it.” Curling her fingers around
his lapel, she pulled him forward. “Kiss me now.”
“Demanding.” Gabe looked around the
room. She could see him gauging the interest of the other diners. With his eyes
fixed on hers, he placed his fingers under her chin. “I like that.”
She couldn’t look away as he moved in
close. Closer. She saw her image reflected in his eyes. His breath brushed her
lips. Her heart stilled, waiting for the contact, speeding up again when his
mouth took hers, tentative at first, then exploring.
As his tongue slid into her mouth, it
brought with it the heady mixture of chocolate, wine and desire. He slid his
tongue farther inside, rubbing against hers. His fingers eased their way into
her hair, grazing her scalp, prompting a low moan of pleasure. Her fingers
moved to caress his cheek, his jaw, and the firm contours of his skin.
The kiss went on and on. Time expanded
and contracted, losing all meaning as she fell inside the all-consuming moment.
Inside him. Inside his world, his space. He aroused every tingling molecule of
her being, just as he had that first day, taking her to a place that felt all
new, yet familiar. With his lips against hers and his fingers tunneling through
her hair, she wanted so much more.
She toed off a sandal under the table
and rubbed her foot along his calf, up to his thigh where he reached out to cup
her ankle. Beneath the tablecloth, he moved her foot against the rigid erection
straining against his zipper. Instinctively, she moved from her chair to his
lap.
Surrounded by him, she brushed her
breasts against him, against the heat and strength she craved. As she slid her
hand inside his coat, against the warm cotton of his shirt, the tinkling sound
of silverware tapping against glasses registered in her brain.
Gasping, they broke apart.
The other diners whistled and cheered.
Molly returned to her chair, smiled and waved, laughing at the attention. Gabe
looked both abashed and pleased with himself. He straightened in his chair a
bit, a chuckle tempered with self-consciousness.
“Well, that got out of hand, didn’t it?”
He cleared his throat. “See? That’s how attracted I am to you. Are you ready to
go?”
“Not nearly.” Breathless and winded, she
doubted her ability to stand at the moment. “Not while there’s soufflé left on
the table. Eat up. The sooner it’s gone, the faster we’ll get out of here.”
“Promise?” He picked up his fork and dug
in.
She almost hated replacing the taste of
him with the chocolate, but she did it, rolling the confection around her mouth
while she studied him. “You really are embarrassed. You aren’t just being
contrary. You don’t believe in any of my favorite things, like magic, luck, or
spontaneity, do you?” She cut into the soufflé for another bite. “So, what
do
you believe in?”
He set his fork down and considered. “I
believe in taking care of the people I love, working hard to get what I want,
and planning ahead for all eventualities.” He ticked each item off on a finger.
“Sort of takes the romance out of the
soufflé,” she muttered.
“Why? Because I made sure you liked it
before I ordered the most expensive dessert on the menu?”