“Which is forty percent alcohol,” I add.
“Right.” He pauses to study my face again and I find myself mesmerized by his eyes and wicked smile. “It apparently has the ideal proportion of ethanol to water to create diamonds. They evaporate the tequila into vapor and then heat it and create diamonds.”
“Of course,” I breathe, also fascinated by this information. “It’s like the diamonds that rain on Jupiter.”
Now it’s Beck’s turn to blink. “Say what?”
I smile slowly and sip my tequila. “Diamonds raining on Jupiter. And Saturn actually. There are different theories about why, but I believe that lightning turns methane into soot. Then as it falls, pressure on it increases and it turns to graphite. The chunks of falling graphite harden into diamonds. And it rains diamonds.”
Beck’s gaze on my mouth as I speak almost has me forgetting how to talk.
“Wow. So Jupiter is covered with diamonds?”
I shake my head. “No. They would probably melt. But on Uranus and Neptune, which are colder, there might be diamonds.”
Beck’s smile tugs at something way down low inside me and we lean even closer, close enough that I can see the flecks of amber in his brown eyes, his long thick eyelashes, and a tiny mole on his right cheekbone. His smooth skin glows and I long to tug his long, lustrous hair out and run my hands through it.
“How do you know that even happens?” he murmurs. “No one’s been to Jupiter.”
I smile and lift one shoulder. “It’s chemistry.”
Our eyes meet and hold and the air around us crackles with electricity. Beck’s eyes smolder and my heart bumps then races, tension rising inside me.
“I like chemistry.”
“Me too.” I’m a doctor of biochemistry, after all. But right now I’m talking about the kind of chemistry that pulls me to Beck, makes my skin tingle and my lower belly fill with aching heat.
“You have an amazing smile,” Beck murmurs.
“Thank you.” Usually compliments embarrass me and I don’t believe them, but at this moment, I can believe my smile is amazing. Because I believe diamonds rain on Jupiter. “So do you.”
His already dark eyes go nearly black and move over my mouth. My lips part and all I can think about is tasting him . . . would he taste like smoky vanilla with hints of caramel, like the tequila I’m sipping? Would he make her burn like the tequila does? I long to find out.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to pour that tequila over you and lick it off. Slowly.” He leans even closer across the bar. “Inch. By. Sweet. Inch.”
My inner muscles clench and a shiver works up my spine. “That sounds like a fun way of tasting tequila.” I take another sip of the golden liquid, holding his gaze. Wow, where did that flirtatious comment come from?
“It does, doesn’t it? Right now . . .” His voice goes low and husky. “. . . I’m dying to taste that Don Julio on your lips.”
I can’t stop from sliding the tip of my tongue over my lower lip. Heat cascades down through me. Tension snaps around us and I have a feeling I’m about to demonstrate the principle of spontaneous combustion. “Exothermic internal reaction,” I murmur. “Followed by thermal runaway.”
His eyebrows notch together. “Um, what?”
“And finally, ignition,” I finish. “Spontaneous combustion.”
He tilts his head to one side, reaches for my glass of Don Julio, and takes a drink. “Yeah.”
“Is that cooling you off?”
“Nope.” He fastens his hot gaze on me again. “Not even a little. Despite your nerdy talk.”
I sigh and drop her head. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s hot. And cute.”