Page 14 of Daring Lance

Willow ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip, and Lance gave into temptation, emitting a soft groan before he traced the pad of his thumb across the smooth skin on her chin. “Stop looking at me that way, or there is soon going to be a pair of howling dogs demanding to go out and several contracts that will be missing content because I will be hauling you back to your bedroom, and we won’t be leaving it for a very long time. And I will be breaking my earlier promise to you.”

Her eyes widened. “Oops, sorry about that. I didn’t realize I was looking at you in any way in particular.”

“I’ll bet.” He dropped his hand from her cheek and wrapped it around the doorknob. “Please wait until I have time this week before you pursue anything that has to do with Bernadette and gang. Probably good to hold off on anything regarding Lily’s Lingerie too, just in case.”

Willow tossed several strands of long black hair behind her shoulder. “Too late. I poked around the site the last few nights and even ordered a few things.”

Lance’s eyes grew wide, and he groaned. “You’re pure evil, Willow, and a tease. I’m leaving before I no longer can. Good night.”

Willow’s laughter followed him down the hallway until he was well into the stairwell on his way to his apartment. He took the stairs two at a time, wisps of lace covering lengths of smooth skin flashing before his eyes, clouding his vision to the point that he tripped on the stairs, twice. Forget that the hours of contract work he still needed to do. Visions of Willow clad in some of Lily’s designs would likely have him watching the sunrise from his window until morning.

FIVE

“Lance? What time is it?” Willow rubbed at the corner of her eye while a small yawn escaped from her mouth. If she weren’t so tired, she’d be horrified to think about what she looked like right now. It was bad enough that she’d fallen asleep in a pair of sweats and her hair in a messy ponytail sometime after three a.m. She was exhausted, and that she had to look it, only made Lance’s arrival at her front door that much worse.

He held up a bag of bagels and Willow’s eyes grew wide. “It’s nine. We agreed last night to meet this morning. I brought breakfast.”

She allowed her gaze to briefly travel down the length of him. He had swapped his typical black T-shirt for a white one, which emphasized the golden hue of skin and had Willow wanting to lick her lips. To say that life wasn’t fair was an understatement. He looked yummier than should be allowed for this time of morning, while she resembled something out of a horror flick. “Oh, right, come on in. I worked late and forgot to set my alarm.” She gave in and ran her tongue over her lips, grateful that she had brushed her teeth before she’d fallen asleep. At least her breath wasn’t offensive, or she hoped it wasn’t. “I need a few minutes to get ready and will be right back.”

Lance entered the condo, stopping a few feet within the front door. A grin curled the corner of one side of his mouth as he tucked a loose lock of her hair to behind her ear. He did that slow blink of his eyes again that drove her to distraction and had her mind darting to places that it had no business going, especially when she looked a hot mess…not to mention her earlier resolve to keep their relationship platonic. Lance nodded toward her kitchen. “I’ll get breakfast together. Do you mind if I make coffee for us?”

Willow’s feet refused to budge. It was as if they were cemented to the floor, her libido having taken over control of them. “I, ah, of course not. Thanks,” she managed to eke out in little more than a whisper as his fingers continued to linger against her ear.

“I think it’s still cool enough outside if you want to eat on the balcony?” He dropped his hand, and Willow took her first deep breath in almost a minute.

She took a step backward and made a quick sweep of her hand over her hair. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. The coffee maker is on the counter, and both the coffee and the cups are in the cabinet above it. I’ll make it quick.”

Lance placed one hand on her upper arm and spun her around to face the opposite direction. “Take your time. I’ll be fine.”

She glanced at him from over her shoulder as she headed toward her bedroom. “I left a printout of Bernadette’s email, with some notes I made, on the kitchen counter. You’re welcome to read them.”

Lance loosely crossed his arms, resting them against his lower abdomen, obviously at ease in the tall, muscular frame he had been graced with, a slight grin on his lips still in place. “Thanks.”

Willow spun her head back around and hastily made her way to her bedroom. One more second with him looking at her like he’d gladly have her for breakfast rather than the bagels he had brought, and she would have let him. Resisting him was next to impossible and getting worse each time they were together. Her desire to drown in his arms, to be carried away by a single look, was winning the war against the protection of her heart.

Maybe it was her undeniable sense of romance that exaggerated the situation? She had translated several romantic movies recently that had tugged at her heart strings. Maybe she needed to back off and accept only serial killer dramas for a while. She shuddered as she stepped into the shower, fully aware that she had no intention of scaring herself silly with horror flicks when romantic comedies were her favorite. She would need them to console herself once Lance moved on and her heart was left shattered into pieces. She knew her resolve was weakening and it was only a matter of time before she proved him right. She wanted Lance and not just a little.

* * *

Willow foundLance on the balcony, his gaze directed on the view of the Intercoastal waterway, his hands resting on the top of the rail.

“This looks great, Lance!” Willow stepped on to the balcony to find her small patio table set for two. Fresh bagels sat on a plate, a dish of cream cheese and a carafe of coffee beside them. “Did you toast the bagels too?”

He spun around, his back up against the rail, the ever-present teasing grin in place. “I hope that’s okay?”

Had any man ever toasted a bagel for her? She knew no one had, not even her own father, though to be fair, bagels were not a typical staple in her family household. “This is perfect. I didn’t grow up eating traditional American breakfast foods, so a bagel is a guilty pleasure for me. My dad and I adopted a lot of my mom’s eating habits, preferring soup, rice, and vegetables in the morning. I don’t think I had ever eaten a bagel until we moved to Hawaii when I was in high school.”

“I bought some cream cheese and fruit too. I hope you like them.”

Willow studied his expression. She knew he was confident, but she swore there was a trace of uncertainty in his eyes, which was silly to think because they were only sharing breakfast together. To ease the tension, she decided to have a little fun. “I’m allergic to most fruits, and I’m lactose intolerant as well.”

Lance’s entire body jerked forward, and he no longer leaned on the balcony. “What? Are you serious? I had no idea.”

A smile broke out on her lips, although guilt tickled her conscience for teasing him when he had been nothing but sincere-as always, she realized. She recalled their walk home the other night, how he had used his body to shelter her from the pelting rain, that he had created an intimate cocoon with his body, surrounding her, making her pulse skyrocket with awareness. The argument she’d had with herself in the shower a few minutes ago, her rational brain against her aching heart, resurfaced, and she finally decided to give in, to let her desire win as it so badly wanted to.

Before she lost her courage, she took three steps to breach the distance between them, her smile growing as she witnessed confusion take over Lance’s expression. She stopped, leaving barely an inch separating them. “I’m teasing you, Lance,” she managed to whisper, her heart pounding so hard it rang in her ears. “The breakfast you prepared is perfect. Thank you.” She rose to the tip of her toes, her eyes fluttering close before she pressed the briefest of kisses against his lips.

Her heels were almost to the floor when Lance pulled her against him, the palm of his hand anchored on the small of her back.

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