Page 32 of The Money Man
“Crazy?” He sounded perplexed.
“Last night you looked at me in a certain way but I thought I was wrong about it. I mean, why would you look at me that way?”
“There are many reasons why.” Now his voice held a sexy rasp. “But I need to be sure about your feelings since we have a professional relationship.”
“I don’t work for you.” And their time working together had a rapidly approaching finish date.
His focus was locked on her. “So you are perfectly comfortable with this?”
Should she ask what he meant by “this”? No, better not to put it in words that she might not like. She took a deep breath, wondering if maybe she was, in fact, crazy. After all, Derek had probably kissed many, many women, ones who knew more about kissing than Alice did. “‘Comfortable’ would be the wrong word. Not nearly strong enough. Don’t you want me to be, I don’t know, panting or something?” She was babbling because she was nervous.Not afraid-nervous, excited-nervous.Dear God, she was even babbling to herself.
His eyes lost none of their intensity but amusement glinted in them too.
“Panting might be more than I could aspire to.” He pulled a large bill out of his wallet and tossed it on the table. “Shall we?” He stood and held out his hand to her.
For a split second she hesitated. Once she touched him, she wasn’t going to be satisfied with just kissing.
She reached out and their palms met, the contact making her hiss in a breath as sensation poured through her body. His skin was warm and dry, his grip firm without being overwhelming. He drew her up from the banquette so that she stood only a whisper away from him. She tilted her head back and found his eyes blazing as he stared down at her mouth. A tiny whimper tore itself from the back of her throat as her insides turned liquid with pure want. Luckily, the noise of the diner muffled it enough that she didn’t think Derek had heard it.
She walked beside him through the diner, reveling in the way women’s heads turned as they passed, savoring an odd surge of gratification that Derek was claiming her in public. She did her best to act as though it wasn’t a big deal, and that she wasn’t quaking with a swirling jumble of insecurity, want, and residual surprise.
The limo waited in the parking lot, its dark paint distorting the reflections of the neon signs into odd squiggles. Derek swung the door open and helped her into the car, sliding in beside her without releasing her hand.
He sat close so their thighs and shoulders grazed. When the limo eased into motion, Derek lifted the back of her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles, sending sparks shimmering across her skin. Then he settled their hands on the hard muscle of his thigh before he sent her a smile that glinted even in the dimness of the car’s interior. “Does this remind you of prom with Joe?” The rasp in his voice was still there.
“My real prom limo had about eight kids smashed into it,” she said, hearing the breathless edge in her own voice. “So this is very different.”
He began to stroke the back of her hand with his thumb, a gentle friction that ran up her arm and tightened her nipples.
One small touch and she was about to erupt. What would happen when he kissed her?
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
“What am I doing?”
“Building the tension.”
“Maybe ...” He moved closer to her, so their bodies came into solid contact from knee to shoulder.
Alice gave him a look, although she wasn’t sure if he could see it. “That was not subtle.”
“Just adding fuel to the fire.” He shifted his grip so his thumb drew circles in the hollow of her palm. “It makes for a more satisfying explosion.”
She scooted an inch away from him. “Now you’re just playing a part.”
“What part would that be?”
“The silver-tongued seducer.”
He gave a deep chuckle. “I like ‘silver-tongued.’”
“Enough!” she said on a strangled laugh, but his light banter eased some of her nerves.
When the limo floated to a halt in front of her town house, Derek had the car door open and was helping her onto the sidewalk before her nerves could clutch again.
He leaned in to say something to the driver that she didn’t hear because she was imagining what it would be like to have Derek in her bedroom. Thank God she’d hurled all her rejected outfits into her closet and closed the door.
He released her hand and slid his arm around her waist to guide her up the walkway to her front door. The place where his hand rested on her hip felt as though it was permanently branded by the heat radiating through her clothes.
