Page 45 of Fight for Me

“Then why tell me?”

“I don’t want to start off our relationship with any lies.”

Which gave Anne pause, and a tidal wave of guilt. Isn’t that exactly what she was doing?

She stood, setting aside her drink. “Listen, I think I probably should go.”

Blane stood, too.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t trying to scare you off. Just being honest. Please don’t go.”

“I think I should.”

Blane gave her a small smile. “Daniel went to all the work to make an impressive dinner for you. Don’t make me tell him you left without eating it.”

Ugh. More guilt. She hesitated.

“I believe he made chocolate souffles for dessert.”

His cajoling worked and she frowned at him. “Using chocolate as a weapon is beneath you.”

His smile widened. “A man has to do what a man has to do.”

Dinner was indeed fantastic. French onion soup to start, then coq au vin with whipped potatoes, followed by the chocolate souffles with homemade whipped cream. The alleged Daniel had left instructions which Blane followed to the letter and by the end, Anne was absolutely sure that her bared midriff was no longer flat.

“Please tell Daniel that was the best meal I’ve had in ages,” she said. Even Juanita had nothing on Daniel’s prowess in the kitchen, though she’d go the grave before saying so within her hearing.

“I’ll certainly do that.” Leaning forward, he topped off the port in her glass.

“Your wining and dining game is strong,” Anne said, taking a tiny sip of the sweet wine. “This has been a lovely evening. Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “You certainly deserve it.” Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and lightly brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

The candlelight was reflected in his eyes and Anne was feeling pleasantly warm and full and relaxed. He was so handsome, and her fingers itched to run through his hair, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Which thoughts were leading her down dangerous paths. And he was still holding her hand, lightly caressing it, looking into her eyes, which was doing things to her heart rate and blood pressure and breathing.

She gently extracted her hand. “I should go. Work tomorrow, you know.”

“Of course,” he said. Perhaps she was imagining it, or wanted to imagine it, but he seemed disappointed.

He retrieved her wrap and draped it over her shoulders, then tugged on the fabric, pulling her closer, until they were nearly touching.

Anne’s breath caught in her throat, her head tipping back to look up at him. He was looking at her as if she was the most important, desirable thing he’d ever encountered. That consuming intensity of his attention and focus made her feel as though she was priceless in his eyes. It was a heady, addictive feeling.

Then his hands moved to cup her jaw, and his head lowered, and his lips pressed against hers.

Just like before, it felt as though a shot of electricity went through her. She gasped and he deepened the kiss, his tongue caressing hers in an erotic dance that she felt to her toes. He tasted of chocolate and the sweet port and she couldn’t help but move closer, until she could feel his body against hers, and twine her arms around his neck and run her fingers through his hair. The wrap fell to the floor, unheeded by either of them.

His hair was as soft as she’d imagined. He wrapped his arms around her and dragged her into him, one arm around her back and the other underneath her butt. His hand cupped her ass, pressing her body against his. She could feel the press of his erection against her abdomen and heat pooled between her legs.

The kiss went on, pulling her under in a seduction that made her head spin. She pulled back, gasping, and his lips moved to her jaw, then her throat in a heated path. Any trace of chill was gone. Her body felt on fire. She clutched his shoulders, her breasts pressed against the delicious hardness of his chest.

“Will you stay?” he murmured against her skin.

That brought reality back with a cold splash of water. Did she want to stay? Yes. Desperately. Somehow in the past few days, Blane had become someone she wanted. She was convinced he wasn’t looking for a one-night stand or a fling. He was courting her with intention, she was sure of it. And if not for the visit from her DOJ friend, Anne would be considering it.

She pulled back, which caused her near physical pain to do so. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“That’s…unfortunate.” He reluctantly let her go. “But I understand. Come. I’ll take you home.”

---