When she’d finished dressing, she surveyed her appearance in the mirror and nodded approvingly. She looked cool, sophisticated and professional, which was the effect she’d hoped to achieve. Although part of her had wanted to look sexy and alluring for Caleb, she also recognized the importance of making a positive first impression on his father and being taken seriously as a job applicant.
When her doorbell rang at 5:30 sharp, her heart leaped into her throat, and perspiration instantly dampened her palms.
Calm down, she told herself, sliding her feet into a pair of strappy nude heels that accentuated the sleek curve of her calves.You’re not going on a date. This is strictly a business meeting. A business meeting that happens to be at the home ofone of the most powerful men in San Antonio, but a business meeting nonetheless.
When she opened the door and saw Caleb standing there, her mouth went dry. He wore black slacks and a white button-down shirt open at the neck to reveal the strong column of his throat. In deference to the warm summer weather, he’d eschewed a jacket. With his hands tucked comfortably in his pockets, he looked incredibly handsome and virile.
As his lazy gaze traveled the length of her, pleasure washed through her veins at the glint of approval that lit his dark eyes.
“Good evening,” he said huskily. “You look beautiful.”
“Why, thank you.” Daniela smiled. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Professor Thorne.”
He inclined his head in simple acknowledgment of the compliment. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, stepping onto the porch and locking the door behind her.
With a hand resting possessively against the small of her back, Caleb escorted her to the driveway, unlocking the doors to a gleaming Rolls-Royce Phantom in smoke gray.
“Oh, wow.” Daniela ran an appreciative gaze over the luxury vehicle and grinned. Her bucket list was getting shorter by the day. “Another awesome ride. But, um, where’s the Ducati?”
Caleb chuckled, glancing down at her slim-fitting dress and heels. “You’re not exactly dressed for it,” he said, repeating the same words he’d told her the day of their coffeehouse excursion.
Daniela laughed as he helped her inside the car, then rounded the gleaming fender to slide into the custom leather seat beside her. She caught the clean scent of him, soap and the subtle spice of an expensive cologne that was undeniably male, and uniquely him.
She slanted him a teasing look as the powerful engine purred to life. “I’m beginning to have my doubts about the existence of your motorcycle.”
His mouth curved in a lazy white grin. “Yeah?”
Daniela nodded. “I think you carry the helmet to class to intimidate your students, to make them believe you’re a real badass who’ll fail them the second they step out of line.”
Caleb laughed, a deep, rich sound that settled like a caress over her skin. As he pulled away from her house, he shook his head in mock chagrin. “When did I become so obvious?”
“You’re not,” Daniela assured him. “I’m justthatgood at reading people.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. It’s a special gift.”
“Mmm. Well,” Caleb huskily intoned, sliding her a heavy-lidded look that made her pulse quicken, “you’re a woman of many talents, Daniela Moreau.”
She didn’t miss the veiled reference to the blowjob she’d given him their first night together. Next time she’d make him finish in her mouth.
“Are you in the mood for Boney?”
Daniela let out a choked laugh. “Excuse me?” She couldn’t have heard right. Had he just asked her if she was in the mood forboning?
“Jazz music,” Caleb explained. “Do you like Boney James? He’s an old school jazz musician.”
“Oh! Boney James! Yes, of course. I’ve heard of him.”
Caleb slanted her an amused glance. “What did you think I said?”
Daniela shook her head, covering her mouth with one hand to smother an embarrassed giggle. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
A crooked grin curved his mouth, but he let her off the hook and turned on the music. Seconds later the bluesy notes of asaxophone poured into the luxurious interior of the Phantom, washing over them like a silky breeze. Daniela crossed her legs and sighed, settling more comfortably into the butter-soft leather seat.
“A Phantom, a Lambo, an SRT Hellcat and a Ducati,” she humorously mused. “Just how many vehicles do you own, sir?”