Page 38 of Feel the Heat

“We all help out. It’s a family operation.”

Topic of conversation, over. Time to try Door Number Two. “So you’re too busy to date, or maybe you’re just too busy to date me.”

She tilted her head and gave him that look, the one that could cut him down at fifty paces.

“Tell me about the last date you went on,” he said, praying it wasn’t that moron, Marco.

“The last date I had.” She shook her head, then straightened, girding herself for... he didn’t know what. “You want to hear about my dating adventures?”

“Only if they’re entertaining. And of course, embarrassing.”

“Oh, I can guarantee that. How about the guy who collapsed in tears when the appetizers came out? The shrimp cocktail reminded him of his ex.”

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

“Then there was the one whose Bentley broke down on Lake Shore Drive on our way to dinner. He asked if I could help change the tire. While he sat in the car, texting. In January.”

His hand curled into a fist on his thigh, but he forced humor into his tone. “So you bring useful skills to a date. Good to know.”

She laughed, the sound more heartbreaking than amused.

“What did you see in not-so-super-Mario?” It spilled out quicker than it took for the thought to form.

“His name’s Marco.”

“Whatever.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to ignore him, but as before, she had evidently decided that humoring him was the best strategy to handle the idiocy.

“It didn’t last long,” she said, which came nowhere close to answering the question, or perhaps it did. A couple of bright spots lit high on her cheekbones. “I was at a point where I needed something, someone, to take my mind off things. It was never supposed to be serious.”

“But…”

“Yeah.” She raised those drown-in-me eyes to meet his. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t usually fall for a guy like that. Mr. Smooth.”

Under normal circumstances. But her mother had been ill and Lili had been what?

Looking to lose herself in the arms of some guy? Is that what she’d wanted from him last night? Some measure of sexual oblivion? The comparison may have been unintentional, but it hit him like a cricket bat to the kidneys. There was no way in hell he was like Marco or any of these cabbage heads she’d dated. Idiots who wouldn’t appreciate a beautiful, funny, and sexy-as-all-get-out woman like Lili if she danced a can-can on DeLuca’s bar.

What he wouldn’t give to show Lili his appreciation. Touching her until she moaned like she had when she tasted his food. Discovering those spots on her body that drove her crazy.

Making her beg him to plunge inside her and take her some place she hadn’t even known existed until she’d met him. Jesus, he wanted to shag her senseless, and then hold her so she wouldn’t feel so lost.

So, that had taken what...five minutes to get back to sex?

Kudos, Kilroy.

He’d known this woman for less than thirty-six hours. A thoroughly pleasurable thirty-six hours colored by a brain injury, a rather girly faint, and a hospital visit. The bad publicity, the contract, the upcoming taping, how burnt out and dog tired he felt, it could all go to hell because with her, food tasted better and he wanted to grasp it and hold on for dear life.

They stared at each other for a long, expectant moment. Suddenly, this no sex kick was shaping up to be the most ridiculous idea he’d ever had. His dick was never meant to be as useless as a white crayon. It was meant for pleasure. It was meant to pleasure her.

Her eyes darkened like the pupils had swallowed all the blue. “You look weird again. Is it your head? Do you need your pain meds?”

Would the meds help the ache in his jeans, now building to an unbearable level? His hands twitched, ready to slide around her, under her, inside her.

“Are you still in love with Marco?” he bit out, surprised at his own sharpness.

She looked flummoxed. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Or relevant.”

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