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"Me either' she said as she bit into a Parmesan tuille amuse bouche and closed her eyes in rapture. "Good. Very good' He nodded in agreement, and she got around to his question. "I like what I do because it's a constant challenge to take something' great and get people to talk about it, think about it, want to own it, or read it, or sing it in their cars. And it's even more of a challenge to get a buzz going when something really isn't worth it."
"Most people are afraid of things that challenge them' he said."A challenge makes me hungrier' she said, staring at the gorgeous man who was her biggest challenge to date. "Makes me want it more' He stared at her mouth while she spoke, as if he were trying to memorize the shape of her lips. Before she was aware enough of what she was doing to stop it, she found her lower lip between her teeth. Biting her lip was something she never did. It would have meant that she was uncertain about something and Vanessa was always certain. But now, with Sam, it was natural. It wasn't that he made her uncertain. Or nervous.
Sam made her feel. Something deep and strong. As odd a sensation as either of the others would have been.
The sheer novelty momentarily threw her off. "I don't think you're afraid of challenges either, are you?" she said, trying to get herself back on track. He shook his head, so she continued, "I'm going to paint you this weekend. You're going to pose for me."
Again that light flickered in his eyes, some combination of admiration and disbelief. 'And you have what artistic training exactly?"
She shrugged as she forked a bit of beets and Gorgonzola into her mouth. "None. So what?" "So then you wouldn't mind if I got behind your desk and did your job on Monday?"
"You'd be great at it' she said simply, and he stared at her for a long moment before he picked up a clam in wine and garlic and held it out, across the table, to her.
"Taste this," he said, and she slowly placed her mouth around the clam, her lips a breath from his fingers. Her heart raced as she sucked the sweet, soft meat into her mouth and swallowed.
"Like it?" he asked. She took a sip of her wine, hoping the alcohol would momentarily temper her lust. It was either drink Pinot or leap across the table and ride him in front of a bunch of strangers.
Not that riding him wasn't a fabulous idea, just not in the plan for tonight. Not his plan, and suddenly, not hers. She couldn't remember the last time she'd exercised patience, actually waited for anything. She'd always taken exactly what she'd wanted when she'd wanted it, but with Sam anticipation was proving to be a potent aphrodisiac.
"You're going to be nude for me' she said, and he didn't look surprised by her words.
"I wouldn't have it any other way' he said, echoing her earlier words, and she nearly came in her seat. Sam Marshall was a rare breed indeed.
FOUR
IT HAD BEEN ONE OF THE BEST NIGHTS he could remember in a very long time. Certainly post Marissa, but even, if he was being completely honest with himself, better than the nights he'd spent painting Marissa, then taking her to bed.
He'd never met anyone like Vanessa, woman or man. She lived for now, not the future, not the past. In all the time he'd spent with Marissa, he'd never been able to get comfortable. Instead, he'd worried constantly about the future, never sure what her mood, her happiness level would be one minute to the next. Always doubting her commitment, knowing deep down that someday she'd leave him. That he was nothing but a stepping-stone for her.
Vanessa walked back toward him from the bathroom, with every eye in the restaurant on her unabashedly confident sexiness. There was an awful lot to appreciate about the woman.
Not for the first time, he wondered if he wasn't the stupidest bastard this side of San Francisco for not jumping into bed with her.
He scooted back in his chair and followed her out of the restaurant, eyes glued to her tight ass as it swung? slightly from side to side. He'd lived in Napa for many years, but the night had never seemed quite so full of promise.
And that's when he decided: He was going to take her home and make love to her all night, into the morning. Despite his Herculean efforts to deny how much he wanted her, there was no other choice, really. He wasn't a big enough man to turn down a woman like this, no matter if it meant bidding his creative muse a permanent farewell.
Her head tilted back as she stared up at the moon. He was mesmerized by her long neck. He wanted to press his lips against the pulse there, so steady, so firm. "Vanessa;' he said, and when she turned her eyes to him, she knew that he'd changed his mind, that he was ready for her.
He reached out to pull her against him, to finally surrender to his need for her, but before he could touch her, she whispered "Good night" and was gone.
VANESSA LAY IN A SCALDING HOT BATH, her heart pounding. Had she actually turned down an offer to have wild sex with a gorgeous stranger? She'd never, not once in her life, played hard to get. She didn't see the point. But tonight, she knew with a certainty that frightened her that Sam wasn't ready yet. And, somehow, neither was she.
She'd charmed him tonight, and he'd charmed her right back.
She'd known she'd won the moment he'd said her name. Yet she'd found herself unwilling to give in quite yet. Instead she wanted to savor the anticipation a little bit longer ..
So instead of lying in a naked sweaty tangle with Sam, here she was, soaking in bubbles. Alone. More impatient, more frustrated than she could ever remember being in her life.
She'd pounded on Rose's door and Carrie's too, but neither of them had been in their rooms. She left a quick message for Rose
while the water filled the tub. "Hey, it's me. I just tried your room but you weren't there, so I'm hoping that means you're getting lucky with the chef hottie. Too bad I can't say the same for myself. I'm posing for a painter and he's got this stupid rule about ... I'm too wound up to talk about it. Don't worry about me, I'll be back Sunday afternoon. And I'll have gotten exactly what I want by then. Let Carrie know that I'm AWOL, would you?"
Who would have thought that she would be the only one home alone in her hotel room tonight? Carrie was a good girl at heart, and Rose was the most risk-averse person she'd ever met. And yet, they were probably getting off with some wine country studs right now, while she had only a bottle of wine and a dildo for company.
She'd acted completely out of character by turning her back on what would have surely been a night of hot sex with a very hot, very intense painter. Knowing it was ultimately the right course of action wasn't getting her off right now. Angry now, she flicked her dildo off the edge of the tub and watched it bounce a couple of times on the tiled floor. She was still hot and bothered, but nine inches of vibrating rubber was no substitute for Sam's long, hard, flesh-and-blood cock.
