Page 23 of Perfume Girl
“Alerts us to danger.” Speckles of gold glinted in his hazel irises.
“And…it affects our taste.”
“In every respect.” He lowered his gaze to my lips. “Taste is everything.”
My clit panged with pleasure. “Is it true you would go to any lengths to get ahead, Astor?”
He leaned forward and pressed his body against mine so I was trapped between him and his horse. “My critics regard me as ruthless, yes.”
“You don’t mind being thought of in that way?” My nipples were taut and my body tense. I didn’t hate the pressure of him against me. In fact, I reveled in the sensations it caused. I would never have imagined I’d be flirting and sparring with the enemy.
“I want to know all about you.”
“In what way?” My voice sounded breathy.
He oozed danger and passion—a cocktail of combustible substances that shouldn’t interact.
Astor leaned in to kiss my neck and I closed my eyes, tilting my head to the side.
He pulled back. “What happened to your ring?”
Glancing down at my left ring finger, I saw the impression that the gold band I’d once worn had left behind. I could tell him about my divorce, but I didn’t trust myself to believe I had any good instincts left when it came to men.
When I didn’t reply, he leaned in closer, his lips almost touching mine.
“I am many things to many people, but to you, Raquel, I will always be the gentleman who walked you to your car.”
The air stilled. Astor stepped away from me and the spell was broken.
I let out a shaky breath. For a second I had thought he was going to kiss me—and I would have let him.
He reached for my hand and led me out of the stables.
To hide my embarrassment over our near intimacy, I turned my attention to the house. It was a regal-looking property with white walls and tall pillars. I could see it was right on the water.
“Who lives with you?” I had to ask.
“I don’t live there.”
“Who does?”
“I want to sell it.” He turned to face me. “What’s your last name?”
“Wren.” I gave him my maiden name.
“Mrs. Wren, it’s been a pleasure.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “This is how a playboy says goodbye.”
Astor dazzled me with a smile that made me blush.
“Call my office,” he said, opening my car door. “They’ll send you an application.”
Feeling self-conscious, I tucked an unruly strand of hair behind my ear. “I want you to know that—”
“Yes?”
“I’m usually more cautious.”
He leaned forward and answered huskily, “I know.”
