Page 39 of The Money Man
“Would it make you feel better to know that I took some self-defense lessons at the gym today?”
“My resourceful Alice,” he said, pulling away so she could see the concern in his eyes banished by the smile curving his delicious lips. “I should have known that you would go straight at the problem.”
“I’m pretty sure that I can take on Myron Barsky now. He’s just a computer nerd, after all.”
The smile evaporated. “Don’t even try. Leave that to me.”
“Joking!” She released her grip on his shoulders to hold up her hands palm out. “I’m not a physical kind of gal.”
“Now, that is not true, as I have discovered to my deep delight,” he said, sliding his hand up between them to palm her breast so she moaned at the sparkle of want that danced through her.
“Okay,thatkind of physical, yes,” she gasped.
He stepped back but interlaced the fingers of one hand with hers. “We need to eat and get our cover story straight before you tempt me into bed.”
“We could eat in bed.”
He groaned but picked up the food carrier. “Work first. Your safety depends on it.”
“You’re a hard taskmaster.” She led him into the kitchen, relishing the warmth of his hand around hers.
“And this is just the beginning of the tasks I have in mind,” he said in a sexy growl that sent arousal shuddering through her.
She’d already set the café table in her bay window and opened a bottle of red wine to let it breathe. She’d splurged on it on the way home from her session with Dawn; she figured Derek was used to the good stuff and also that it might ease the aches created by twisting herself out of various attack holds.
He swung the insulated bag onto the counter and unzipped the top, releasing an aroma of garlic that had her salivating. “Italian!” she said. “Good choice!”
He sent her a glinting smile as he lifted out containers. “I figured if we both ate garlic, we wouldn’t mind the aroma that might linger on our breath.”
“I love a man with a plan.” She opened a container marked “Pappardelle al Limone” and inhaled the delicious scents of lemon and warm pecorino cheese.
“They teach you that planning stuff in business school,” he said, releasing another waft of Italian deliciousness as he flipped the top off another container and set it on the counter. “Thisis why I go to Trattoria Paradiso. The artichoke lasagna.”
The array of dishes almost exceeded the dimensions of her table, but they wedged them all onto it after she removed the arrangement of Peruvian lilies and Fuji mums she’d also bought on her way home in an attempt to impress Derek with her domestic decorating.
Not surprisingly the scent of food drew Audley into the kitchen. He leaped onto the counter to sniff at the open bag.
“Audley! Off!” Alice admonished. She hoped Derek didn’t mind cat paws near his food.
But Derek offered the back of his hand to Audley as a nonthreatening introduction. Clearly, he had been around animals before. “You’re a handsome fellow,” he said, giving Audley a stroke so the cat’s back arched. “You’ve been keeping your roommate a secret,” Derek said to Alice.
“Roommates,” she said. “Sylvester is just too shy for even the smell of Italian food to lure him out. They don’t attend business meetings because not everyone likes cats.”
“Did you consider last night a business meeting?”
“You’re the one who pointed out that we are working together.” Alice picked up Audley and set him on the floor.
Derek pulled out a chair for her. As she sat, he lifted her hair away from her neck and brushed a kiss on the sensitive skin, saying, “I’m discovering the joys of mixing business with pleasure.”
His touch shimmered over her skin. “Keep doing that and we’ll never get to work,” she said, letting her head fall back so she looked him in the eye, only upside down.
“God, I want to feel your breasts in my hands,” he said, his gaze sliding down to where her arched back made her breasts very prominent. Her nipples tightened to hard points that pushed against her lace bra and he sucked in a breath. “But I am going to demonstrate extraordinary self-control.”
“If you want credit for that, you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Alice said as he walked around the table to seat himself, leaving her to imagine the feel of his palms on her aching nipples. “I’m all for postponing work in favor of play.”
“Focus,” he said, picking up his fork. “The sooner we get through the cover story, the sooner I can make you scream with pure bliss.”
“You are not helping,” she said on a gasp as longing puddled between her thighs. She took a gulp of wine. “Okay, tell me about your conversation with Barsky.”
