Page 48 of Chance of Romance
He chewed and swallowed. “You’re much warmer. Usually you’re like an untouchable porcelain doll.”
Stung, she leaned back, her stomach souring. “Oh.”Untouchable.Maybe that was why she hadn’t been with a man in so long. She gave off an untouchable vibe. The labelhurt. Probably because the one man she really wanted to touch her had said it. That whole flirty thing earlier had been because they were both tipsy. Now Logan was stone-cold sober and thought she was…untouchable.
“Sabrina, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
She shook her head, staring at her plate, telling herself just to move past it. So he thought she was untouchable. Big picture? No. There was no bigger picture where she could see any sunnier side to this. It just sucked.
“Hey,” he said gently, “maybe I just don’t know you well enough. I mostly see you at the office.”
She clenched her jaw. You know what? She was very touchable. She had a lot going for her—a loving, empathetic nature, good friends, a career that helped a lot of people. At the thought of her career and losing half her clients, she totally lost her cool. Enough already!
She took a big swallow of wine and jabbed a finger at him. “Here’s what I think about you.”
He pounded his chest with one fist. “Let me have it.”
“Never mind,” she said quietly, looking away. She shouldn’t take out her frustration on him. “It’s uncharitable.”
He laughed. “Great! Insult me so I can stop feeling like a jerk for calling you a porcelain doll, which can be quite pretty, by the way. Not that I ever had one.” He lifted a finger. “But I have seen them.”
“Yes, but porcelain has negative connotations when applied to me.” She exhaled sharply. “You really want to know?”
He spread his arms wide. “I really want to know.”
She crossed her arms. “I thought you were a commitment-phobe.”
“Oh, boy. Number one on your shit list.”
She inclined her head. “But then I found out about Olivia.”
He speared a carrot. “So I guess we both misjudged each other.”
“I guess.” She sighed, ate a little more, and finished her wine. She had just enough of a buzz to drown out her earlier regret. It wasn’t too late. She just had to make one move, one lusty signal, to prove to him she wasn’t an untouchable porcelain doll. She was sure he’d take it from there. Hadn’t he implied he liked to be the boss in the bedroom? That had to be what he meant about being in charge sometimes. Otherwise, why would he have whispered it in a husky voice that sent shivers through her? She really hoped that was what he meant because it would besomuch easier for her. She wouldn’t get worked up so much, wondering how she was doing. She’d only been with her ex. None of her other dates since then had progressed past the second date. Sure, she’d kissed a bunch of guys, got felt up, but as to the actual deed, not so much. That was on her. She’d been afraid to have a real meaningful connection. Now she was ready. And she trusted Logan.
She watched him finish his dinner and wipe his mouth with a napkin. He’d cleaned his plate.
He looked up at her and flashed a smile that made her heart kerthunk. “Amazing. Compliments to the chef. I’ll wash the dishes since you cooked. And by wash, I mean I’ll put them in the dishwasher.” He winked.
She laughed. “Fair enough.”
He stood and took both their plates. “You spending the night?”
Now or never.“Yes.”
“Awesome. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable upstairs. All the bedrooms are ready for guests.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Thank Claire,” he said and headed to the kitchen.
“Thanks, Claire!” she sang to the ceiling.
He stared at her. “Are you tipsy again?”
“A little,” she admitted. “I’m trying to lose my untouchable porcelain-doll image.”
He gave her a sympathetic look. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to get my suitcase.”
