Page 48 of Silver-Tongued Devil
“Gotcha.” Some more clicking. “Cord, or no cord?”
“Oh, whatever’s most expensive. I want to make you hurt.”
He looked at her at last and started to smile. “I’m sure I shouldn’t say this, darlin’, but you already made me hurt.”
“Oh, way to keep it classy. You’ve seen that before.” Fortunately, she never blushed. That was one benefit of her Indian side. He didn’t have to know how she’d felt when she’d seen him standing there. Other than the hissy fit she’d already thrown, of course.
“Could be,” he said, “but I’ve never seen you doing it. And no, that wasn’t a real subtle comment, either. Hang on a sec.” He did the kind of one-clicking she could never have dreamed of, then sat back and said, “There you go. Tomorrow, you’ll have a new phone. You’ll even be here to get the package. Problem solved.”
She sat still for a moment. “I’m trying to decide whether to be huffy and flounce off like this was all your fault, sit here and be gracious and ask you about your trip like none of it happened, or slink off and show you how embarrassed I am. I’m really struggling with it, to tell you the truth.”
“Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll get you a beer while you decide. Or better yet—I’ll get out a bottle of wine from this case I had to buy. Long story, but I ended up with way too much fancy wine. You were drinking wine that night at the restaurant, so I’m pretty sure you’ll like it.”
He’d noticed what she’d been drinking? “But you already have a beer,” she said.
“Yep. Happy to pour it down the sink, too. And I’ll give you something to chew on while I’m gone. I was pretty happy to think you were still here, and then I was pretty bummed to think you were gone. I was thinking about sitting here, having a beer, and watching the light change on the lake, and I’d sure rather do that in your company. And if you want to ask about my trip and tell me how my shell’s coming along—well, that’ll be good, too.”
“Which makes me look stupid if I’m huffy and flouncing off.”
“Let’s hope so. Hang on. I’ll get that wine.”
He was back within two minutes, handing her a glass of deep ruby liquid and setting the bottle on the table. “I’ve got to say,” he told her as he sat down with his own wine glass, “you look a whole lot better in that robe than I ever did.”
She plucked at the delicate fabric. “Brown and black paisley silk? Blake Orbison, you secret cosmopolitan, you. It’s like I’m sitting here with Hugh Hefner.” She took a sniff of the wine, then a sip, and had to sigh, because that wasgood. Black cherry and black pepper, tobacco and black licorice. Exactly like sitting around in a gorgeous house in a silk robe, possibly with a man who was smoking a pipe. “No,” she decided, “it’s more like Dinner With My Billionaire. Serious class overload.”
“There we go,” he said, sitting back down beside her. “The badass returns. I shouldn’t tell you that my old girlfriend bought me that robe, and that I don’t even know why I brought it up here and stuck it in my closet. Or that I bought all that wine and only cracked one bottle. Thinking I was turning into a different guy, maybe. But Iwilltell you that I’ve only worn that thing a couple times, because I hate it. Well, Ididhate it. It’s growing on me. And right now, the wine’s looking like a real good idea, too.” He touched his glass gently to hers. “Here’s to all that badass,” he said with his slow smile, and took a sip.
“Mm.” She gave him a quick sideways glance and drank some more of her wine just to hold the dark flavors in her mouth and let the pleasure fill her. She tried not to remember that she’d been about thirty seconds from reaching that mountaintop when she’d opened her eyes to see Blake, and that she still had the lingering tingles to remind her of it. She looked out at the lake, because the alternative was looking at Blake and watching him watch her. “Did you see your bedroom?”
“I sure did. Saw my flower, too. I do like that flower, darlin’. Kinda reminds me of this wine, wouldn’t you say? Seductive, I think that’s the word. All that darkness pulling you in, like when you see the sin coming a mile away and you know you’re going to be taking the fall. Or maybe that’s just me.”
His voice was as deep and rich as the wine on her tongue. She tried to haul herself back from the edge, and failed completely. Those tingles were back again, and they’d brought their friends.
Somehow, she’d stopped looking at the lake and was looking at Blake from over the rim of her glass. She shouldn’t flirt. Shewouldn’tflirt. He might be doing it, but nothing said she had to return the favor. But what came out of her mouth was, “Does that mean you had a good time on your trip? Or does it mean you didn’t?”
“Not good enough,” he said. “Not nearly good enough.”
This was getting out of control. Time to pull it right on back. She sat up straight. Somehow, she’d ended up with her feet curled under her. “Do you want to see the shell? Or have you had enough stained glass?”
He looked confused for a second, like he hadn’t quite shifted gears. “What, it’s here?”
“Yeah. In your hall closet. I was going to show it to you tomorrow. I’ll go get it.”
She started to get up, but he was faster, and he had a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back to sit. A casual gesture, or… maybe not. “Nah,” he said, giving her a look that made her pulse flutter despite everything. “I’ve got it.”
Whoa. Alpha much?
Yes, and you knew it.
She’d leave as soon as she showed him. Or as soon as she finished her wine, anyway. It was a customer meeting, that was all. Maybe it had had an unorthodox start, and maybe she was unusually dressed for it, but he didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t made a move on her since he’d kissed her and she’d taken off. He’d flirted, sure, but flirting came as easily to Blake as breathing. It wasfine.She just had to be casual about it, the same way he was.
It was fine.
She was still working on that thought when Blake came back holding the framed piece of glass. He was frowning at it, and she forgot to be casual.
He didn’t like it. Despite everything he’d just said, it was too suggestive. It was another step beyond her flowers, and she knew it.
His next words confirmed it. “How the hell,” he asked her, looking at her at last, still with that frown, “do you do that?”
