Page 5 of Rival Hearts
“Like a factory?”
I nodded. “Something like that.”
“That’s interesting. What kind of stuff do you manufacture?”
Before I could figure out a way to dodge the question and avoid telling her that our company manufactured a large percentage of the world’s most luxurious yachts, the server arrived with our drinks.
Lottie joked with him with the same ease she talked with me, and I watched her, enthralled. Everything about her was magnetic.
We drank our drinks, and she told me about her love for the ocean, how deep and dark and mysterious it was, and at the same time, filled with vibrancy and life.
“I think part of why I love it so much is it’s not dominated by the human world, you know? It’s an ecosystem that survives all on its own, and it’s largely untouched by human control, the way it is with animals on land.”
I nodded, mesmerized by every word, her mouth as she spoke. I wanted to kiss her when she talked about something interesting, which was all the time.
“But I’ve talked about myself all night,” she said after she’d finished a whole story about the Mariana Trench and its undiscovered depths. “Tell me about yourself. What is it you really do at the factory? What do you make?”
Shit, this was going to open a can of worms. I really didn’t want to talk about work, about my family’s empire, about the Blackwood legacy and all that entailed. It would change everything—this moment, the closeness that had become so comfortable between us.
“Nothing I do is very interesting,” I said, hedging.
“That can’t be true. If you chose that career path, then there has to besomethingthat drew you to it, right?”
Damn it, she was kind and thoughtful and caring enough to not only talk about herself.
“I prefer not to think about work outside of the office. It’s my night off and I’m in the presence of a beautiful woman.”
She blushed, her smile broadening, but she folded her arms.
“Sounds to me like you’re hedging, Alex.”
Fuck, she was right, but the more she fished, and the more I evaded, the more ridiculous it would be when it finally did come out. I’d created a stupid game.
So, instead of answering her, telling her exactly who I was and what I did, I leaned over the table and kissed her.
She made a small yelping noise at the back of her throat and her eyes widened, but then she melted against me and kissed me back.
I would have chalked it up to a victory, but I couldn’t even think that far because kissing her was electric. Her lips were soft, and my tongue slid into her mouth.
She moaned softly at the back of her throat and sighed against me, and I was done. Lost to the world. Nothing else mattered but her.
We finally broke the kiss, and I looked at her; her eyes were a darker amber in the dim light of the bar.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she answered in a breathy voice.
I fished my wallet out of my pocket and threw a handful of notes on the table—probably more than the drinks cost, but whatever—and we left the bar together.
I drove us back to my place, my mind spinning, my heart thundering in my ribcage.
I’d had a lot of bodies warm my sheets in the last decade or so, but none of them had felt likethis. I didn’t know what it was about her, but I didn’t want to dissect it. I just wanted her. As much of her as I could get.
I wanted to consummate whatever this feeling was and never let go.
You barely know her.
But that wasn’t true. It felt like I’d known her for a lifetime.
