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Authors: Amanda Usen

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BOOK: Luscious
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Chapter 3

A glance around the posh Trio dining room confirmed that she was tragically underdressed. After a closer glance at the food as the maitre d’ led them to their table, she didn’t care. She couldn’t wait to get a look at the menu. The room hummed with quiet murmurs and the clink of silver on china.

“Nothing with strawberries, please,” Olivia requested after they had both ordered the five-course chef’s tasting menu. Sean cocked an eyebrow. “Allergic,” she supplied. Since he had promised to see her safely onto the airplane, with or without him, Olivia ordered wine paired with every course.

“Start talking, counselor.” On the taxi ride from the airport, he had expertly ducked her questions and kept her busy talking about Marlene and Joe’s upcoming wedding, but it was time to get some answers.

Sean nodded, swirled his pinot noir, and held her eyes with his calm, gray stare. “You were married,” he finally said.

“Huh?” Was he serious?

He shrugged. “When you asked me to stay—you were still married to Keith.”

She crossed her arms. “In name only.”

“Sleeping with clients is unethical, Olivia, especially when you are negotiating a divorce. I don’t like Keith, but I couldn’t sleep with his wife.”

Olivia added that to the list of ways Keith had ruined her life.

Sean’s eyes gleamed. “Now, his ex-wife…” he continued. “I am all about sleeping with Keith’s ex-wife. Anytime. Any place. Any country. Italy would be perfect.” His lips curved in a wicked grin that made her believe she might have misjudged him. Power suits and reassuring courtroom presence notwithstanding, Sean might not be a safe choice after all.

She took a quick sip of wine, choked, then coughed.

He handed her a crystal glass of water. “See, that’s why it’s simple. I’m using the business I need to conduct in Italy as an excuse to follow you to Verona and indulge in the fantasies I’ve had about you since high school.”

“Seriously?” she gasped.

His nod was slow and definite. “Crush doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt about you. You walked into freshman biology and every other girl disappeared.”

“But you never asked me out.”

“I couldn’t ask anyone out.” He took a deep breath, released it. “My mother was a drunk and I couldn’t leave my little brother home alone with her. I didn’t dare bring anyone to the house either. I never knew when she’d be passed out on the couch or having a screaming fit.” He shrugged. “The moments I stole with you were the only ‘dates’ I had until my mom got sober. You must have noticed that I stared at you in study hall, ate lunch at the table next to yours, and walked blocks out of my way so I could pass your parents’ restaurant on the way to and from school every day.”

She’d noticed—and wondered why he’d never made a move. Now she knew. And it broke her heart that she hadn’t been self-confident enough to make an effort herself. It sounded like he’d needed a friend.

Sean cleared his throat, breaking the spell of the past. “But as I said last night, we’re adults now. I don’t have to take care of my little brother. You don’t have to work. We’re headed for one of the most romantic countries in the world, and I’ve wanted you for at least half as long as I’ve been alive. Put me out of my misery and say yes, Olivia.”

The waiter set a plate in front of her.

She tore her eyes away from Sean’s disturbing gaze and looked down at the table. Pure, professional awe eclipsed her personal freak-out. Well, professional awe and her well-developed gift for denial.

For a full minute, she stared at her plate. Then she picked up the fork farthest to her left and delicately assembled a bite of the exquisite smoked salmon salad, making sure to get a taste of every component onto her fork, particularly the preserved lemons. Food, she understood. Food, she could handle. She did not have the same confidence regarding this familiar stranger in front of her. She stole a quick glance across the table. Sean was frowning.

“What?” Olivia asked.

He picked up his fork and speared a shrimp on his plate. “Nothing.”

***

Sean chewed, but he didn’t really taste the food in his mouth. Oh, he was smooth, all right. Smooth like the freakin’ Alps, no doubt about it. He didn’t want her pity, he wanted to seduce her, but Olivia looked more bowled over by the food on the plate in front of her than by his proposition.

She had initially responded to his kiss on the plane but then froze in his arms. That did not bode well for his plan. He shook his head slightly, taking another bite and watching Olivia savor her food. She smiled a little every time her lips closed around the fork. Anticipation swirled inside of him as he thought about all the other ways he wanted to bring her pleasure. Her kiss had been so sweet—raw response mixed with hesitation. He wanted to kiss her again, over and over until she relaxed and opened to him. He wanted to know if their bodies would fit together as perfectly as their mouths—but first he had to convince her.

Olivia sighed and set her fork down with a clink. Immediately, a busboy swooped in to retrieve their empty plates. She took a long drink of her wine, then folded her hands in front of her on the white tablecloth. She met his eyes squarely. “I think you’d better tell me more about those high school fantasies, counselor.”

His pulse jumped. Maybe he had a chance, after all. “Are you sure you don’t want me to whisper them in your ear on the airplane?” She couldn’t say no after they were in the air.

“Positive.” She tipped her chin up, so her eyelids were at half-mast. Her expectant expression made him think of her head on a pillow, gazing down at him while he…

“Last chance to avoid shocking our waiter,” he warned.

“You can’t shock a waiter in a place like this.”

Sean was certain she was incorrect, but out of public decency, he kept his voice low. He began to weave a fantasy, noticing that every server who passed within earshot of their table discreetly slowed his steps. Olivia attempted to taste the next course delivered by a wide-eyed waiter but dropped her fork with a clatter when Sean mentioned blindfold and gondola in the same breath. Still, he had to give her credit. After dropping her fork, she had focused her attention entirely on him and had barely twitched a muscle.

As he neared the end of his pitch, Olivia’s head was cocked to the side and her eyes were glazed. He’d thrown in everything but the kitchen sink, hoping that something might pique her interest. She cleared her throat and straightened in her chair. “There aren’t any gondolas in Verona. The canals are in Venice.”

“A balcony would work. Plenty of those, right?”

Olivia picked up her fork, color rising in her cheeks. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the kinky type.”

He lifted one eyebrow, unable to prevent the corners of his mouth from turning up. He encouraged his buttoned-down, by-the-book, technicality driven, Type-A, loophole lawyer image. He enjoyed arguing a point, any point, just for the sheer fun of it. He liked to be right. He liked to be in control. He liked to win. It had been impressed on him at a very early age that all of these things were necessary for survival, but the bedroom was not a courtroom. Control was necessary up to a point, of course, but buttoned-down lawyer guy disappeared with his tie.

She leaned forward. “Sean, I just don’t get it. You had a prime opportunity last summer—”

“I told you, you were married.”

“I’ve been under the impression that guys don’t give that detail a lot of thought.”

“Some guys don’t.” He shrugged. “I’m not your ex-husband.”

She flinched and dropped her gaze. After a second, her eyes met his again. “You want me to believe you’ve been dying to have sex with me? That you rejected me a couple of months ago because I was barely married, but now you want to take me to Italy and blindfold me in a freaking gondola?” Her voice was soft, belying the intensity of her words. “Give me one good goddamn reason.”

Sean let the desire that had sharpened inside him for years roll across his face. He reached across the table and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’ll make you glad you did.”

Her nostrils flared. “A better reason than that.”

He hesitated.

He never put anyone on the stand unless he knew exactly what they were going to say, and that went double for his personal life. He had no idea how Olivia would react to the information he was about to give to her, and that made him nervous. Unfortunately, this felt like his last chance to convince her to let him join her.

“Your mother is expecting me,” he said reluctantly.

The color drained out of her cheeks. For a minute, he thought she might fling her fresh glass of wine in his face. When she didn’t even glance at the food the waiter gingerly placed in front of her, Sean knew he was in serious trouble.

“You called my mother?” Her voice rose unevenly.

“I’m afraid she’ll be very disappointed if I don’t arrive at Villa Farfalla. I got the impression she’s eager for American tourists to discover the delights of her hospitality.”

“No doubt.”

“The villa sounds amazing. A sprawling estate, a vineyard, cooking classes with a famous chef, wine tours, a private spa…” Sean was actually looking forward to spending a week there, as long as he didn’t have to do it from a shallow grave dug by Olivia, which is where it looked like he was headed.

“Spare me the propaganda. My mother is a brilliant businesswoman, but if you think I’m difficult, wait until you meet her. No detail escapes her attention.”

Sean covered his elation with a frown. “Do you think she’ll check your bed every night? That would put a kink in my plans.”

“Your plans are kinky enough,” she said darkly.

Sean chuckled. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.” He leaned across the table to take her hand. “I didn’t mention I was arriving with you, but if I cancel my reservation, I’ll feel compelled to give your mother a reason.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“So sue me. I get free legal representation.” Olivia’s green eyes reminded Sean of the sky just before a tornado ripped across the horizon—lush, eerie, and dangerous to life and limb. He squeezed her hand. “All you have to do is say yes, Olivia.”

***

Sean’s thumb in her palm was making it very difficult to think. Each time it stroked across her hand, new tingles would start in another area of her body. Was it the wine or just him? Had she eaten anything for breakfast or lunch?

She shook her head. What had he asked her again?
Right.
How could she forget?

Sean wanted her to say yes. He had spun her well-deserved meltdown into a kinky, sun-kissed, wine-soaked vacation in a picturesque villa and almost made her believe it could happen.

He had no idea what he was walking into. For that matter, neither did Olivia. Her father would likely accept her behavior with his usual good humor, but her mother was another story. Her mother was going to go ballistic. In fact, having a human shield might not be such a bad idea. Maybe her mom wouldn’t kill her in front of a guest.

Olivia concentrated on her tingling palm. Under the table, her toes began to curl. In all of her twenty-nine years, no one had ever made her toes curl. Certainly not her ex-husband, although by all reports he’d curled the toes of every other female who let him. For the first time, Olivia could see what all the fuss was about. She smiled into her wineglass. Maybe…

Not.

She knew from experience sex was not the easy romp Sean had just described to her. It was complicated. Embarrassing and confusing. Her smile flatlined. Better not to turn this into anything it wasn’t.

Sean was still caressing her hand and waiting patiently. Well, he could wait, the cocky bastard. Any decision she made would be based on practicality, and she would not allow her judgment to be affected by her tingling palm or any other tingling parts either. Just to be safe, she pulled her hand away from him and picked up her fork, finally noticing the fresh plate in front of her.

“Olivia?”

“Patience, counselor. Jury’s out for dinner.”

***

Exactly three hours and five incomparable courses later, her eyes flew wide as she caught sight of the digits on the bill that had just been delivered across the table. She barely managed to swallow the “Holy shit” that was on the tip of her tongue. She really couldn’t let him—

“Don’t even think about it.” Sean frowned as she reached for her purse. He tucked his credit card into the check cover. “Would I bring you here if I expected you to pay for it? No way. It’s my pleasure. Did you enjoy your dinner?”

“You have to ask?” She was pretty sure she had moaned aloud more than once.

“I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“It was fabulous, Sean. Thank you. But are you sure you don’t want me to—”

He shook his head and smiled at her, displaying the dimple in his chin. The irresistible dimple. In fact, she wanted to touch it. Sean caught the hand she raised toward him and pulled her out of her chair.

“Time to get back to the airport, darlin’. Italy is waiting.” The question in his voice gave her pause. Or it would have, if she hadn’t spent the last few hours replacing her blood with wine and then diverting all of it away from her brain and to her stomach, which was now busy digesting hundreds of dollars of prime seafood and extremely fine wine.

The pro and con list she had made in her head during dinner had come up dead even, but the wine was making her feel decidedly optimistic. She giggled as she allowed Sean to lead her out of the restaurant and into a waiting taxi. Her messy meltdown suddenly seemed less necessary than enjoying the company of the guy climbing into the taxi next to her. The guy with the dimpled chin and the fancy suit, the accommodating credit card, and the admitted desire for kinky sex.

Normally, that would have freaked her right out. She was not a kinky sex kind of girl. She was a boring sex kind of girl. An on-your-back-and-hold-still-until-it’s-over girl. Frigid. Like ice.

A disappointment.

Forget it.

Olivia sat up straight on the taxi seat, lips tight, blood cold. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and turned to Sean, ready to tell him no. All the wine in the world couldn’t make her agree to do something that was guaranteed to bring more failure. One more failure would break her, which was the whole reason she was leaving in the first place.

BOOK: Luscious
13.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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