Page 17 of Fire

Coming to a decision, she said, “You were straight with me, so I’ll be straight with you. This,” she waved a hand between them, “us, is a bad idea.”

“Have dinner with me.”

Did he not give up? She was about to tell him no, when he surprised her by saying, “Please.”

The way he said it, she had a feeling he didn’t use that word often and felt herself caving.

And it must have shown in her eyes because a small smile appeared on his lips. And damn her, but she was a sucker for that smile.

Her weakness had him pushing his advantage. “Just dinner. We’ll talk. Get to know each other. Then what we do after—whether it’s alone or together—will be up to you.”

She sighed, admitting defeat. “I need to go change.” God, was she really doing this?

And then he said something that washed away all the fear his earlier straight talk had produced. “I’ll be here waiting for as long as you need.”

Gwen knew he meant while she got ready, but she couldn’t help fooling herself into hoping it was for another reason altogether.

Sitting on the couch waiting for Gwen to get ready for the date he’d unapologetically maneuvered her into, his mind drifted to the night before.

The alarm he’d felt watching Gwen leave his office, he’d known within seconds, he’d fucked up. He’d thought about going after her but figured he’d done enough damage for one night.

He hadn’t lied, he’d never been in a relationship, had never even slept with a woman more than once. Relationships dealt with emotions, and he didn’t have the kind that a woman would want. Or need. Anger, greed, lust, bitterness, hatred—he had in spades.

Currently, the lust portion of said emotions was focused entirely on Gwen. If he’d thought the desire he’d felt for her upon their first meeting had been a fluke, that was soon proved wrong at their second. If anything, it had been stronger. Sitting next to her for over an hour, not touching her, had been torture. He’d actually been grateful for all the interruptions because it had given him an excuse to whisk her away.

But that’s when things had gone downhill. Not their kiss. That had been so fucking hot he’d felt it in more than just his dick. No, it was when he’d moved things to the bedroom. Not only had she pulled away physically, but mentally as well.

He’d fucking felt it.

That’d been his first clue he’d fucked up. He’d been so focused on his own needs, he hadn’t been paying attention to hers. Oh, he’d known that she’d wanted him—had felt the vibe from a mile away—but she was stronger than her baser urges. That he hadn’t expected. In all his dealings with the fairer sex, that was a rare thing.

And for some reason he couldn’t yet explain, he found that intriguing.

So intriguing, he’d broken his number one rule.

Never chase.

Chapter 5

The restaurant Blake took her to wasn’t five-star, but it wasn’t shabby either. It was somewhere in the middle. That meant people wore anything from nice jeans with shirts and blouses to suits and dresses, and the ambiance was intimate without feeling pretentious.

Blake was back to behaving like the man she’d met the night before—forcefully relaxed—the straight talker gone. It was hard not to get pulled back under his spell. And, to be honest, she didn’t try very hard to fight it.

Their conversation was light and flowed smoothly, and Gwen soon discovered that underneath Blake’s sexy exterior lay a sharp mind and quick wit. She also had his full attention. His eyes didn’t stray around the room. Not once did she feel like he wanted to be anywhere else but with her. And that was a heady feeling.

Sometime during their entrée, she decided to broach the subject of what she’d seen earlier. “I, um, stopped by the club this afternoon to return the gifts, but I left when I saw you were busy.”

He had a piece of steak halfway to his mouth but set his fork down on his plate, bite uneaten. He paused for a moment before he said, “I host a charity luncheon once a month.”

She took a bite of her fish, chewed, swallowed, all the while watching him. Did he look a little uncomfortable with their topic? It was hard to tell. “Why the women’s shelter?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “No particular reason other than it’s a tax write-off.”

Gwen got the feeling he was being evasive, but she let it go and moved the discussion back to something lighter.

Mr. Straight Talker made a reappearance as soon as their waiter left after taking their dessert order. Reaching across the table, Blake captured her hand, gaining her attention. His gaze wasn’t on hers, it was on their entwined fingers, zeroed in on his thumb moving back and forth, caressing hers. “I want to tell you something, but I don’t want you to think it’s a play to get you into my bed.” He glanced up long enough to see her nod before he continued, “As I said earlier, what we do when we leave here is up to you. But also know, regardless of your decision, this isn’t our last date. Iwillsee you again.”

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