Page 7 of About that Fling
“Yes, I think so.” She took a sip from her new glass. “I must’ve run across it in the Ashmolean when I was at Oxford earning my doctorate in aromatherapy.”
“Was this before or after you attended ninja training camp?”
“Before the ninja thing, but after I won the Ultimate Fighting Championships by strangling a man with my thighs.”
“Good skillset for an international spy.”
She reached for a piece of prosciutto and Adam tried not to get distracted by the delicate fingers and the lovely, fine bones in her wrist. Whoever this woman really was, she had beautiful hands. He shifted in his seat and kicked over his briefcase, which landed with a smack on the tile floor.
Jenna looked at it, then back at him. “Good thing you didn’t have a bomb in there.”
He righted the briefcase with his toe and swirled the wine in his glass. “What makes you think I don’t?”
“Secret spy sense. Also, I’m telepathic. I can read your mind.”
“Oh yeah?” He took a drink of his wine, surprised to realize he’d nearly drained the glass. He wasn’t tipsy—not by a long shot—but he did feel bolder. More daring.
He smiled at Jenna and watched something spark in her eyes.
“Okay, then,” he said, holding her gaze as he leaned toward her over the table. “What am I thinking now?”
She paused, looking hesitant. Something about her posture and the primness of her dress suggested this flirty banter wasn’t her usual fare. His ego did an absurd fist pump at the thought of it.
Seeming to decide something, she ran a finger over the rim of her glass and leaned toward him across the table. “I have to say, I’m a little shocked by your thoughts. Well, shocked and intrigued.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, your thoughts are rather . . . explicit.”
Adam smiled as something surged from his brain to his lower extremities. “Guilty as charged.”
“You are a gigolo, so I suppose it goes with the territory. Still, I wasn’t aware your services extended to strange women you’d only just met in a bar.”
“I’m an equal-opportunity gigolo.”
“I see.” Her finger made a slow journey around the rim of the wineglass, circling one way, then the other. Adam felt his mouth begin to water.
“What do you normally charge for your gigolo-ing?” she asked, her tone casual as her eyes slid to her phone again. It was face down, so she wasn’t checking messages, and it crossed Adam’s mind to ask about the neon pink card she’d tucked there.
But instinct told him to stick with the subject at hand. “First round of gigolo service is on the house. I’m toying with the idea of a buy-one-get-one-free coupon in Ladies’ Home Journal.”
“Very sensible of you. A gigolo with marketing skills.”
“And telepathic powers. Did I mention I can read minds as well?”
She looked up at him through her lashes, her fingertip poised on the rim of her glass. “Oh? So what am I thinking now?”
Adam swallowed, hoping like hell he was reading this right. Hoping he hadn’t misjudged this whole flirtation and the signals she seemed to be sending. He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “You’re thinking the same damn thing I am.”
She nodded and licked her lips. “I’ll get my coat.”
Chapter 2
The instant his eyes snapped open, Jenna was ready. She twisted the bedsheet in her fingers, steeling herself.
“I don’t normally do this,” she blurted.
He blinked at her, green eyes registering surprise, then confusion, then approval. She flushed and tugged the sheet up over her breasts, wondering if she should have opened with “good morning.”
