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Waited to see that flicker of emotion he thought he’d seen on her face when she’d saw him holding Danielle’s hand.
The elevator doors opened and she stepped in without looking back.
Of course she didn’t look back.
She never did.
Chapter 6
As far as blind dates went, it hadn’t been horrible.
Benedict Wade was almost as good-looking as he’d been in the picture Camille had shown her, although the camera had perhaps caught him at a particularly good angle, because the reality was slightly underwhelming.
But he hadn’t picked his teeth, hadn’t dominated the conversation or tried to order her entrée for her. Hadn’t bragged about his penis, hadn’t been a douche bag about the wine list, hadn’t stared at her boobs.
He was one of the good ones. One of the “worthy of a second date” guys.
Even more important, when Benedict (never Ben, apparently) offered to walk her home, Emma hadn’t wanted to scramble for some sort of lame excuse about how she had to go buy tampons or dash home to her nonexistent pet.
But when they reached Camille’s apartment building, Emma decided that this was where she was going to draw the line. At least for tonight.
“This is you, then?” Benedict said, when she stopped in front of the high-rise and turned to face him.
She smiled. “Well . . . it’s where I’ll be for the next couple months.”
He glanced up at the shiny, modern building. “Is it hard, then? Roughing it like this?”
Emma laughed. “I do sort of miss being on constant alert for roaches, but it’s not so bad.”
“I think I see what’s going on here,” Benedict said, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’re trying to lure me in early before you introduce me to your pet rat collection at your real home.”
“No, no, I think I see what’s going on here,” she teased back. “You’re just using me for my cushy, short-term apartment.”
He nodded solemnly. “And when Camille comes back, I’ll woo her instead. Retain my rightful place in this building.”
Emma laughed. “Isn’t Camille friends with your mother? Isn’t that . . . wrong?”
“It’s got a certain Graduate feel to it, I’ll admit, but it’s a dog-eat-dog world, Sinclair.”
They smiled at each other.
If it was the fifth date (give or take), the moment would have absolutely warranted a Wanna come up?
But Emma wasn’t there . . . . not quite yet.
However, maybe a kiss . . . just to see where they stood with the whole physical attraction thing.
Benedict seemed to read her just right, because his smile went just a little bit sexy, and he took a step toward her.
Emma tilted her head up and watched his slow approach, evaluating his moves. (She couldn’t help it. At the end of the day, she was still a relationships columnist—alw
ays looking for material, always assessing.)
And this guy passed.
Very nice, Mr. Wade. Slow and sexy, and very nice indeed.
If there was a ripple of unease before his lips touched hers, Emma ignored it. She refused to hear that tiny voice in the back of her head whispering wrong guy, wrong guy!
