Page 38 of Claiming Genevieve

The look on his face makes me think of someone seeing the sun after it’s been cloudy for days. It’s as if his expression lights up, his gaze sweeping over me as it fills with heat, and I see him swallow hard, his throat moving as he takes me in.

“Christ, lass,” he mutters, his accent thick as he walks toward me. “You look fuckin’ stunning.”

I smile despite myself. “You’re just saying that so I’ll marry you.”

“Oh, you’re not escaping that now,taibhseach.” He offers me his arm, and I take it, making our way slowly toward the front door. “I’m looking forward to trying this restaurant. It’s not somewhere I’ve been before.”

“You’ll love it,” I assure him.

“If you love it, I’m sure I will as well.”

I’m surprised to see that the town car isn’t waiting for us when we step outside. Instead, there’s an Aston Martin sitting in the driveway—a deep metallic teal sports car that shimmers nearly black in the darkness, lit only by the lamps outside. “Are you driving us?” I ask, startled, and Rowan chuckles.

“Is that a deal-breaker, lass?”

“I hear you’re reckless.” My voice comes out breathier than it should, and I swallow hard, attempting to sound like myself again. Rowan heard it—I can see it from the twitch of his lips, the way his eyes briefly settle on my mouth. “Maybe I shouldn’t get in a car with you.”

“There are probably a lot of things you shouldn’t do with me.” His gaze flicks back up to my eyes. “But we’re going to do them anyway. Live a little, lass. What’s the harm?”

I look back at the sports car. Chris had a few of them, mostly preferring his Jaguar—which he drove exactly as someone might drive a Toyota sedan—with no risks taken whatsoever. But something tells me that Rowan isn’t that type at all. And a heat that I don’t want and shouldn’t indulge flickers to life in my belly, making my skin prickle as I look at Rowan’s gleaming green eyes in the darkness. Like a cat, watching me to see what my next move will be.

“You’re not afraid of a fast car, are you?” He grins at me, and I narrow my eyes. Ihatethat he knew exactly how to keep me from backing down, from calling off the date altogether. Now that he’s thrown down that gauntlet, I have no choice but to go along with it.

“Of course not,” I snap, wishing I could stride past him to the waiting car. I’m limited to the speed of my crutches, though, and Rowan keeps pace with me, making sure that I’m safe on the driveway before he opens the door for me and helps me in.

The car smells like leather and Rowan’s own woodsy scent, the seats buttery-soft against my legs. I sink down into it, clipping my seatbelt as Rowan comes around to the other side. As he slides in, I can’t deny the car suits him. He looks sexy and dangerous sitting in the driver’s seat, and I bite my lip, looking away.

I’m too attracted to him for my own good. I’m grateful for the parameters that I set on our sex life once we’re married, because it’s the only thing that might keep me from getting swept away.

As it is, I’m painfully aware of how close he is, of the warmth of the small interior of the car. He pulls out of the driveway, the car purring as he shifts, and once he’s gotten it into the final gear, his hand drops to my knee.

It takes everything in me not to gasp at the contact. His fingers brush against the base of my knee, his palm warm against my skin, and it feels as if electricity jolts through me, my muscles tightening with warm desire as that sensation pools in my core.

I bite my lip, looking away from him as my cheeks flush. I feel almost embarrassed at my reaction to his touch. I’m not a teenager, not some blushing virgin. I shouldn’t be this flustered, thisarousedby a man touching my knee—but Rowan’s touch against my skin feels like a brand, like I’ll still feel the brush of his fingertips there long after he takes his hand away.

If that simple of a touch feels like that?—

I sink my teeth deeper into my lip, pushing the thought away. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. It doesn’t do any good to think about it right now.

For all Rowan’s teasing, his driving isn’t that hair-raising. He makes a few quick turns in traffic that leave me tense and grabbing for the edge of the seat—and that make him chuckle at my reaction—but for the most part, we make it to the restaurant without sending my pulse skyrocketing.

Or at least, not from his driving. Every time his fingers brush against my knee, sliding a bit under the edge of my skirt as if to tease me with the promise of the night when his hands will slide further upward, I can feel my heartbeat in my throat, beating in the hollow of it. I can feel my breath catch in my lungs, my skin heating as if I’m already in bed with Rowan, and not just sitting next to him in his car.

It’s been a long time since I felt anything like this. I can’t really remember the last time I did. I try to recall if Chris ever made my pulse beat faster like this, if my skin ever felt hot and tingling just from his slightest touch, but if he ever did, I don’t remember it now.

Rowan parks at the valet for the bistro and comes around to open my door, helping me out as he hands me my crutches. “Hopefully you won’t have to use these too much longer,” he murmurs, resting his hand on the small of my back as I hobble in next to him. I feel that heat again, his touch searing through the thin silk. “I know you hate them.”

“How do you know that?” I ask sarcastically as we approach the hostess stand, but Rowan doesn’t take the bait. He just glances at me, his expression unruffled.

“I pay attention,” is all he says, before giving his name to the hostess.

We’re taken to the outdoor seating area out back, which is always incredibly enchanting. The tables are sprinkled throughout a garden hung with fairy lights and smelling richly of summer flowers, with a small bubbling fountain in the center. Rowan orders a bottle of white wine for us when the server comes to get our drinks, and then he glances over at me.

“I thought it would be good for us to get to know each other better,” he says simply. “Temporary or not, wearegoing to be married very soon. We’re going to be living together, spending time together.” His jaw tightens, and I see the muscle in it tick slightly. “Making a baby together.”

Something swoops in my stomach at the way he says it. It’s as if he can’t hide his anticipation of it, even as he’s trying to sound pragmatic and gentlemanly.

“We could get to know each other after the wedding,” I murmur, but my heart isn’t really in fighting this right now. In fact, I’m starting to look forward to the evening. Rowan’s company is pleasant, and the night is beautiful, and we’re at one of my favorite places in the city. It’s hard for me to complain about anything, just now.

---