Page 41 of Fight for Me

“I thought you wanted me ravenous,” she said, a teasing light in her eye as she popped a goat cheese stuffed peppadew into her mouth and chewed.

“Well, I want to enjoy the show and the sound of your stomach growling would distract me,” he teased back. Reaching out, he snagged an olive and offered it to her. To his surprise, she opened her mouth and let him feed her. Okay, that did absolutely nothing to help the problem he was having in his trousers.

She crossed one long leg over the other and he could see the strap of her heeled shoe wrapped around a slim ankle. It was more enticing than he would’ve thought. But just about everything about her was enticing to him.

“Goodness knows I wouldn’t want to distract you,” she said, biting into a strawberry. She licked her lips, her eyes on his, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Then she winked.

Blane leaned close, his lips at her ear. “You’re playing with fire.”

The air between them felt charged with electric tension. Her perfume was intoxicating and her soft hair brushed his cheek.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her voice was a seductive whisper.

Blane leaned back just enough to look into her eyes. “Don’t you?”

He thought he heard her breath catch. His gaze drifted to her lips and the thought crossed his mind of kissing her again. By the way she wet her lips with her tongue, she was thinking it, too.

The bells tinged, signaling a two-minute warning until the show would begin, breaking the spell. They both leaned back in their chairs, turning their attention to the stage.

Blane couldn’t say what happened during the performance. All of his attention was on the woman next to him. Every move she made, every move of her body or shift in her focus. He refilled her wine glass when it was empty. He filled a small plate with bites from the charcuterie board and gave it to her. She delicately nibbled at it through the first act.

When the lights came up, he was on his feet. “I can escort you to the ladies’ room,” he said.

“How gallant,” she replied with a smile. “And I thought chivalry was dead.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Probably on life support, but not quite dead.”

Placing a hand on the small of her back, he felt the shock of skin-to-skin contact as he guided her from the balcony seating. His fingers glided along the top of her skirt. She abruptly came to a stop, encountering people traffic outside the door. His hand slid around her waist, drawing her into him. He felt her sharply inhale as he lightly caressed her stomach.

Anne grasped his hand, pulling it away from her body, and sliding her fingers through his. “A bit handsy tonight?” she asked.

“Resisting temptation was never my thing.”

“And that’s what I am?”

His lips brushed her ear. “What do you think?”

“Senator Kirk, how delightful to see you.”

His attention was drawn to a man who’d approached while he’d been busy flirting with Anne. Blane stood straight, moving his hand to Anne’s hip and donning his politician’s smile.

“Alan, nice to see you, too.”

Beside him, Anne went utterly still.

“How’s the DOJ treating you?” he asked.

“Good, good,” Alan replied. “Good to see you taking in the city’s entertainments. It’s a rare thing.”

“I can’t hide in my office all the time,” Blane parried.

Alan’s gaze drifted to Anne. “And who is your lovely companion?”

Blane hesitated, thinking it was none of Alan’s business, but Anne took the decision out of his hands.

“Anne,” she said. “Anne Holton. And you are?”

“Anne Holton,” he echoed. “I believe I’ve heard of your father.”

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