Page 11 of Only for the Moment
Chapter Five
Isaac Anschau cut a swath through the crowd like he was a king. Security helped, but there was something about him, some undefinable air, that had people standing back to look instead of rushing forward to demand his autograph. It wasn’t fear Kennedy saw on their faces, though. More like awe. Isaac smiled and waved and they just…stared.
Awestruck.
Considering her mouth washanging open, maybe she was a bit awestruck too. She clamped her lips shut and put on her most businesslike smile—polite, pleasant, professional. That was her, Ms. Business. Always. With every client.
Isaac came to a stop directly in front of her, gaze scanning her face, and laughed. “Am I really that bad?”
“What?”
Leaning close, he dropped that sex-hungry growl of a voice to an intimate whisper,sending a shiver down her spine. “I much prefer the sass I got this morning in the spa to the buttoned-up professional standing in front of me.”
It was her biggest fear come to life. Every muscle froze, her breath stopped, and for a moment she wondered if she just might make a complete fool of herself by passing out. How could he know? How could she live it down if he did? How—
“Breathe, Kennedy.”
Isaac shifted back the barest inch, just enough so that his eyes captured hers. They really were like sea glass, so clear she felt like she could see right through them, but so beautiful she didn’t want to look anywhere else. Those eyes danced with amusement, damn him. Heat crept up her cheeks—not a good look for a redhead. So why was she always doing it around this man?
A big hand, fingertipsrough with callouses, cupped her cheek. “I almost like this look as much as this morning’s vixen.”
Heat seared other parts of her body this time. Unable to hold his gaze, she dropped her own to his chest. “I— Um…I—” Hell. “What I mean is…”
His chuckle was low and sexy—why did he have to be so sexy? At least he didn’t remark on her stammering attempts to…what? Apologize? Excuse herself? Evenshe didn’t know, and that never happened to her. Never.
Dropping his hand from her cheek, Isaac stepped back and turned, cocking an elbow in her direction. “We’ll discuss that later. Let’s get dinner first.”
Something about his simple demand calmed the chaos in her brain. And yet she hesitated. Touching him was crossing a line; she had a feeling that once she did, she’d go back for more, againand again. But that intense gaze dared her to chance it, and her willpower when it came to him frankly sucked. She knew that without even going near him.
When he was near? Forget it.
And God, he was every bit as warm as she’d imagined. He wore a dark gray dress shirt that molded to his muscular chest like silk, the rolled-up sleeves baring darkly tanned forearms sprinkled with crisp blond hair.The texture beneath her fingertips made her shiver; what would it feel like against her chest, her nipples? Though she’d much rather feel the dark blond stubble along his sharp jaw rasping her most intimate places.
Not that she should be thinking about that, no matter how tempting he was. Wrapping her professionalism around her a bit desperately, she gestured toward the door of the restaurantwith her free hand. “I have a booth reserved on the upper floor, private but with a view.” The Mystic was a lovely mix of navy and cream decor reminiscent of steampunk and modern ambient lighting that had always drawn Kennedy in. Like the spa, she came here regularly. She’d planned to reserve the most public table she could get for their dinner together, but after letting the fog of lust fade earlier,she’d realized Isaac would have no peace that way. Security could only do so much to guard against the intrusion of fans. The upper floor of the restaurant was reserved for VIP guests who desired a meal that was a bit less public, and knowing Isaac could have peace and quiet while he ate, she’d requested a table there.
Walking side by side, uncannily in sync, they approached the maître d’.
“Ah, good evening, Ms. Kennedy. We have everything prepared for you and your guest.”
“Thank you, Arlo. I appreciate your flexibility.”
“Anything for you,” he said, waving away her thanks. “And for you, sir.” Giving them a slight bow, he gestured forward. “If you’ll follow me…”
They did, up a thick spiral staircase to a wide balcony. Kennedy noted that the rest of Isaac’s security waited outsidethe restaurant and at the base of the stairs, though Nick followed them to the top. When he stopped there to lean against the wall, Kennedy paused.
“Nick, come have a seat.”
The big man shook his head. “No, thank you, ma’am.”
“Don’t bother arguing with him,” Isaac said as she opened her mouth to do just that. “It won’t change anything. I know; I’ve tried for years.”
Kennedy chuckled at thedisgruntled look on Isaac’s face. Obviously this was an argument of long standing between the two men. “Well, we do have excellent room service you can order later.”
Nick gave her a wink, then turned his head to survey the other diners with suspicion.
At their table in a far corner, overlooking the restaurant below, Arlo seated Kennedy politely while Isaac took the opposite chair. When the maîtred’ left them, he opened his menu, his intense eyes spearing her over the top. “So what do you recommend?”
Orders placed and menus taken, silence settled between them, broken only by the clink of cutlery and murmur of voices from the tables nearby. Unable to put it off any longer, Kennedy cleared her throat. “I really need to apologize.”
