Page 15 of Turning Up the Heat

CHAPTER SIX

TOM’SHANDSETTLED low on Gemma’s back as they followed the hostess to their table. As much as she wanted his touch, as much as she wanted to squirm under his fingers, she stepped away from him and looked around. A couple of the faces in the busy restaurant were familiar, but none of them paid her any mind. But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel as if everyone was watching them acutely, already digging out cell phones to report back to her brothers.

You’re being paranoid, she told herself. No one in the restaurant cared that she was on a dinner date with Tom Cain, heir to Cain Rum and son of the man the Rexfords had battled with for years.

They stopped at the table, and it surprised her when Tom held out her chair, waiting for her to sit. She dated quite often, but she couldn’t remember the last time a man did something like that for her. “You’re not only good-looking but a gentleman, too.” She looked up at him as he helped slide in her chair.

He chuckled and walked around to his own side of the table. “You sound surprised.”

“I am a little. You weren’t very gentlemanly in Jamaica.”

A self-satisfied smile adorned his face. “I guess I wasn’t.”

He picked up his menu and as he studied it, she studied him. His thick, black hair was brushed back, but the waves were a little messy. The humidity no doubt played with his usual style. She appreciated his high cheekbones; his nose had a slight bump, but it did nothing to take away from his good looks. His blue eyes were cast down at the wine list. He must have felt her watching him, and he looked up and smiled.

“So, what looks good to you?” he asked, no doubt about choice of food.

“The guy holding the wine list,” she said with a grin. She couldn’t help but flirt with him, and she felt herself relax a little. His company did something to disarm her. It surprised her how comfortable she was with him.

He laughed. “I’d believe you if I didn’t feel like I just ran five miles outside. It’s December, but it feels like New York in the summer. The humidity kills me.”

“This is as cool as it gets,” she told him.

“Well, it sounds terrible.”

“You get used to it,” she told him. “I’ll take the humidity over the snow in New York any day. I would freeze to death up there.”

“I’d keep you warm,” he said. She believed it, too, as his gaze lit a fire within her, searing her insides. “Unless you want to visit sometime in the summer.”

She said nothing and sipped her water. Was he already making plans for them? “Let’s pump the brakes there a little, why don’t we?” She might be attracted to the guy, but she didn’t think there would be anything for them beyond this night. “Before you set a wedding date or anything, this really isn’t anything but dinner.”

“Well, let’s see what happens after dinner,” he said with a wink. “But I guess I should count myself lucky that I got you here.”

“Yeah, you should.”

“But everyone’s got to eat, right?”

“That’s true.” She would have probably gone home and ordered some Thai food and binged some of the episodes of Real Housewives that cluttered her DVR. Going to one of her favorite restaurants with an attractive man and an evening that might end in incredible sex was a far better option. She could always watch reality TV after he went back to New York.

The waiter returned to take their order, and Tom deferred to her. “You go ahead,” he told her. “Whatever you recommend is fine with me.”

“Well, you won’t be disappointed.” She turned back to the server. “We’ll start with the shucked oysters,” Gemma told the server. “Then I’ll have the shrimp linguini.”

Tom nodded in agreement. “That sounds good. I’ll have the same. And a bottle of sauvignon blanc with that?” he finished, asking Gemma.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

As the server walked away, Gemma wished he’d hurry back with the wine. “Tell me, Tom. What are you really doing down here?”

“I was honest with you before. I don’t really know what I’m doing. It was probably a dumb thing to do. I didn’t know if you would even want to see me. But I was in New York, and I was restless. And all I could think about was you. All I wanted was to see you again.”

His admission stole her breath, and she leaned forward. “Really?”

He shrugged. “You did something to me. Something that I’ve never felt before.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, what? You’re in love with me now, or something?”

He chuckled. “No, I didn’t say that. But you stuck with me, grabbed hold of me and I just couldn’t shake you. You’re an itch I couldn’t scratch.”