Page 21 of Dangerous Love

“I knew you were a spy.” She meets my gaze, her heart-shaped face already burned into my memory. Her dress is low-cut and white, and her round breasts are perfectly accented by the scooping neckline. I want to run my tongue along it, then pull it down and take a tight nipple into my mouth.

“That dress is perfect on you.” I openly admire it, my gaze sliding down her body.

“Thanks.” She swallows hard. “You look so good right now.” She frowns a little. “I mean not just right now. You always look good. Even when you’re all sweaty on your treadmill and …” She trails off. “Not that I, um, watch you on your treadmill. That would be creepy.” Her high, forced laugh draws a real one from me.

“You can watch me all you like.” I draw her fingers to my mouth, then kiss her knuckles softly. “But perhaps you’d be able to see more up close.”

Her breath hitches, and I love the reactions I pull from her. “Up close?”

“Mm-hmm.” I run my teeth along her knuckles, and she squirms.

“Sir, the wine list.” A server has been standing and waiting for quite a while, but finally got up the nerve to speak and break the moment.

I sigh and wave the list away. “Do you like wine, tigress?”

“I’m not much of a drinker.” She shrugs.

Good. I want her mind clear when I lick her until she screams tonight. “We’ll stick with water.” I peruse the brief food menu. “I’ll have the beef Wellington, rare.”

She taps her finger on her chin as she studies the paper. “Can I have the um, what’s this thing?” She points.

I lean over, breathing her in. “Roast pheasant. A bird that can be gamey, but I assume is perfectly prepared here.”

The waiter nods. “It certainly is. The chef brines and roasts them herself every afternoon. Then she matches them with lovely fresh greens, a compote of fig, and a nest of haricot verts.”

“Hair coverts, yes. That sounds like me.” She nods. “I’ll have that.”

Sexy and naïve, she is the combination that will break me. I can already feel it, her loveliness cutting through every layer of ice and rock around my heart.

The waiter takes the menus and hurries off as more people begin to trickle into the restaurant.

Lena looks around, her gaze darting to the front doors every time they open.

“Hey.” I reach over and gently tug her chin around so she’s looking at me. “Everything’s okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. If you want to leave at any time, just say the word.” I want her to feel safe with me, to know that no matter what is going on in her beautiful mind, I won’t judge her, won’t look down on her.

Her shoulders curl inward and she keeps staring at the door as more people arrive. Her words come out in a whispered torrent, “I’m sorry, I just get all freaked out and I don’t like to leave home and I try to hide it but then it comes out and I feel like a--”

I kiss her. I lean across the table, put one hand on her throat, and claim her lips for my own. She makes a surprised sound, then closes her eyes. I pull her closer, the table jolting as I grab her waist and yank her to my lap. Her taste is sweet and cold from the water, and I want to drown in her. She puts her hands on my shoulders as I angle her head to the side, deepening the kiss as she melts against me, her anxiety fading as I soothe her with my body, my heart, my soul.

People are staring. I don’t care. The waiter is hovering. I still don’t care. I kiss her until she’s panting, her heart racing, and her body molding itself to mine.

When I finally release her, I lick my lips as she stares at me wide-eyed.

“You kissed me.”

“Yes.” I run my hand up her back until I come to her soft skin. “I’d like to do more than that.”

“You kissed me in front of all these people.” She blushes so beautifully as I stroke her skin with my fingertips.

“Would you like me to do it again?” I lean closer, her mouth a lure I can’t resist.

“I--”

“Sir.” The waiter stands stiffly with our dinner in his hands.

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