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Her hand went to my leg, her eyes now holding mine, even in the dark. “Took it away from me? Definitely not. Teaching me how to compromise and see things the Spade way? Yes.”
My hand slid up to her cheek, my fingers sinking into her hair. “I promise we’ll make it work in a way where we’ll both be happy.”
She nodded. “I believe that, and I promise that however this project turns out, whether it’s one building or two or if we don’t even end up here and we decide to do construction somewhere else, I’ll work with you, not against you. I want this hotel to be something we both love.”
Before she could say another word, I pressed my lips against hers.
Damn, this woman was perfect. Right down to the way she tasted. The sweetness on her tongue made every part of me throb.
I’d been thinking about this night for the last week. The chance to finally spend time with her.
And so far, it had gone just the way I’d wanted it to.
I pulled my lips away as the SUV came to a stop in front of our hotel. I opened the backseat door, climbed out, and helped her onto the ground, thanking the driver before I led her inside. My hand stayed on her lower back as I walked her to the bar, locating two seats on the far side.
As she reached her stool, Rowan slipped off her jacket, revealing the sexiest emerald-colored dress underneath, one I’d been staring at all through dinner.
One I couldn’t fucking wait to strip off her body.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” I growled in her ear.
She smiled as she placed the coat on the back of her stool, along with her purse. “You like green, huh?”
“I like you.”
“What if I were wearing red?”
“It wouldn’t make a bit of a difference. Any color, style, fabric—at the end of the night, it’s all going to end up on the floor.”
She laughed, and when the bartender approached, she said, “An extra-dirty martini, shaken really, really well, please.”
“So, there are ice chips on top,” I added, which was the only way to make a martini.
“You got it,” the bartender replied. “Regular or blue cheese olives?”
“Regular,” she requested.
“And for you?” he asked me.
I’d been in the mood for bourbon, but, shit, that martini sounded good.
“I’ll have the same,” I told him.
I turned toward her, keeping my jacket on because I didn’t intend for us to stay down here long.
And because every fucking second we were in this bar, my dick was growing harder.
“There’s something about this bar that I just love.” She scanned the entire area before her eyes returned to me. “I don’t know if it’s the shape or the way it’s laid out. How the drinks are always so good or if it’s even the decor.”
I slipped my arm around the back of her. “It’s none of those things.”
“No?”
I pointed across the bar. “It’s because that spot right there is where you met me.” I waited for her eyes to return. “That’s why you love it.”
“The start of … so much.”
“Listen”—I leaned into her neck, the dress low-cut so her whole throat was revealed, along with her collarbone and chest, and aside from the thin straps on her shoulders, her arms werebare—“if it had been easy, it wouldn’t feel as good as it does now.”
