Page 57 of Watching Her

His smile was an admittance, which I promptly huffed at in response.

“I don’t like people getting the shaft.”

When he leaned even closer, I held my breath. His eyes never leaving mine, he pressed the elevator button. “And I assure you that in no way is that how I allow my business to be handled.”

“So the dance was just another attempt at keeping me quiet?”

My question caught him completely off guard, the surprise registering in his eyes. Whereas I had a feeling almost nothing kept him from a quick comeback, my question had done so easily. With a slight, very dark chuckle, he hesitated, perhaps waiting until we were all alone.

With the elevator doors opening, I lifted a single eyebrow in a further challenge before backing in and moving against the far wall.

He stepped just inside, not bothering to look before pressing a floor button or asking me where my room was located. I had a feeling we weren’t heading to my suite, which was fine. I certainly didn’t want any interruptions or for any of my friends to figure out I’d spent salacious time with a man.

But he didn’t stay where he was, taking his time walking closer as the doors closed behind us, leaving us all alone. His shadow fell over me, swallowing up the space between us. My breath hitched. Every single nerve ending was suddenly screaming, hyper-aware of the heat radiating off his skin.

And of just how handsome he was in his charcoal suit and crisp white shirt.

“Were you under the impression I was threatening you with our dance?”

“No, but with a man who doesn’t like to lose, I could imagine anything. Flowers. Expensive champagne. A painting worth a fortune.”

He exhaled, lifting his arm ever so slowly. When he pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, I was even more breathless. Inches. Just inches left. His gaze dropped to my lips. My pulse hammered in my throat, drowning out every crazy thought in my mind.

“I’ll let you in on another secret, Penelope. I never threaten a beautiful woman.” He was controlled with his actions, allowing me the opportunity to push him away. Although I wondered if he’d ever had a woman do so.

While a small part of me wanted to do just that for no other reason than to experience his reaction, far more of me wanted something else entire.

Another kiss, only not one based on intoxication or whimsy, but because the desire had roared between us once again. Even the crackle of electricity I’d felt had a heavier load, far more disruptive and enticing.

My gaze locked onto his, watching the dark, consuming shift in his seductive gray eyes. When his gaze flickered down to my lips, my breath hitched entirely. It was a delicious kind of torture, that fraction of a second where time seemed to stretch, knowing exactly what was coming and being completely powerless and unwilling to stop it.

“You don’t?” I managed, for what reason I didn’t know. When I dared press my hand against his chest, the heat became even more explosive, leaving my fingertips aching.

“Never. Women are to be revered and treated like the queens they deserve to be. I can’t lie about the fact that after our initial, very different meeting I was very curious as to who you were.”

“I bet.”

“I’m serious.”

I tilted my head until there were millimeters of space between our mouths. I’d never felt so attracted to a man, the desire tossing aside any suggestion this was wrong.

Or that he was only using me.

Maybe I should think just the opposite.

I was using him.

Then the agonizing wait broke. As his lips finally brushed against mine, the tension snapped, replaced by a rush of heat that went straight to my core. Every thought evaporated, leaving only the intoxicating feel of him.

The crazy need for him.

His grip on my chin shifted, his hand finding my jaw while his thumb danced across the surface of my skin. All while he gently parted my lips, taking his time, perhaps in another moment of allowing me to know I had full control.

But did I?

And more important, did I want to?

He kissed me with the sharp edge of liquid courage. The taste of the scotch was dark and rich on his mouth, a heady mix of barley and fire. It was a thrilling, unapologetic flavor that left me completely breathless and craving another sip.