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"Well." I lean closer and shoot him a look of faux suspicion. "Did you embezzle money from your bandmates?"
"Not sure I should tell you."
"How can I convince you?"
"I'm sure you can think of something." He raises a brow, shifting into character.
"Hmmm." I miss playing this game with Ethan. It's always fun. I arch my back to push my chest towards him. "There must be something I can offer you. In exchange."
He leans back into his chair, spreads his legs wide. "Whatever do you mean, Ms. Valentine?"
I shrug, feigning innocence. "I'm not sure, Mr. Strong. I'm new to this whole bookkeeping thing. I'm sure a powerful, handsome man like you could point me in the right direction."
He laughs, breaking character. "Keep this up and I'm getting you off in the bathroom."
My cheeks flush. "Are you telling me to stop or telling me to keep going?"
"It's a data point. Do what you want with the information." His eyes go wide with desire.
God, I can practically feel his hands on my skin, his breath on my neck. I want his body pressed against mine. I want him getting me off in the bathroom.
But I'm not ready for that. Not yet.
I lean back on my seat and pull my legs onto my chair, so I'm sitting cross-legged. "I don't think it was you. You would have no idea how to embezzle."
He laughs. "Vi, that hurts. I can't believe you doubt my knowledge of criminal activities."
"Not all criminal activities. I know for a fact that you're quite experienced in matters of public indecency."
His voice drops to something low and seductive. "Do you?"
Damn, I'm not steering the conversation back to platonic territory very well. But then, I don't want the conversation in platonic territory. The look in his eyes is making me hot all over. "I could be reminded."
He's about to say something when the waiter interrupts to drop off waters and take our orders.
Ethan holds my gaze for a moment. Something passes between us. Something I can't explain.
Then it's gone. He orders the Russian tea service.
I order a sencha tea and an avocado sandwich and hand the waiter our menus. Then he's gone and it's me and Ethan alone.
"How about I remind you after lunch?" he asks.
I meet his gaze. "What do you have in mind?"
"That part is a surprise. Do you have a swimsuit?"
"Not with me, no."
"I'll buy you one."
"You're not buying me anything." Even if the thought of trying on swimsuits with Ethan just outside the door is making me hot all over.
"It's a trade. I buy you a swimsuit. In exchange, you trust me to lead you right for the rest of the day."
"Who's buying lunch?"
"Me."
