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“Why don’t you take that off?” he asked, needing to see her face. He needed to find something about her that turned him off so he could get upstairs where his boss was waiting. So he could put her out of his head and get his libido back under control.
Quirking a questioning brow, she pointed to her bra, which startled a small laugh out of him. Because hell, yes, he’d like to see her without the bra-up close-but he knew he couldn’t let that happen. Not if he wanted to keep his job. Not if he wanted to have the kind of life his brothers had.
Not if he wanted to work things out with Izzie.
“No. I mean that.” He nodded toward the mask.
“I don’t think so.”
“You really take this anonymity seriously?”
“More than you know.”
She moved closer and Nick honestly didn’t know which pleased him more-feeling her warmth as she approached, or seeing her both in the flesh and reflected in the mirror. The woman’s panties were not only tiny, they were thong-style and he could see the succulent curves of her ass in the mirror. His hands clenched with the need to fill them with those curves.
She reached for his left hand and lifted it. “No ring.”
He shook his head.
“So there’s no one…special?”
He hesitated a second before answering. A week ago the answer would have been an unequivocal no. Right now he wasn’t so sure. He hedged. “That one’s in the air right now.”
Her bottom lip edged out in a tiny pout, glistening and wet against the red velvet cupping her mouth.
He wanted to bite it. Suck it into his mouth and lick the plumpness of it, then pull her down on his lap and explore all those curves and soft angles of her body.
“I’m unattached, too,” she murmured, licking her lips as if she’d read his thoughts. “And frankly, in my line of work, I don’t have much use for dating and get-to-know-you chats.”
He suspected he knew where she was going. With some other woman-just about any other woman-he’d watch for signals, wonder if she was trying to pick him up. With this one, he knew she’d be very frank about what she wanted.
Her hand came up, she trailed the tips of her fingers across his shoulder, her nails scraping the cotton of his shirt. He felt the touch everywhere. Her scent overwhelmed him. Her heat screamed to him in pure sexual invitation.
She made it even more clear. “I want to have sex with you.”
His heart skipped a beat. His pants shrunk across his groin and if the woman looked down, she’d know he could quite easily accommodate her. Several times, if she’d let him.
Before he could say a word, she quickly continued, “Despite what you might think since we just met, I’m not making this suggestion lightly. As Harry could confirm…I’m not in the habit of letting men in my dressing room. You are, in fact, the first one I’ve been alone with since I started working here.”
Interesting. She sounded as if she was worried he’d question her morals or think she was trashy. He’d known trashy women. But in his experience, they were women with low self-confidence and lower self-esteem who grasped at sex with anyone in an effort to feed their egos and fill their empty hearts.
He could already tell Rose wasn’t like that. She was incredibly self-confident. She could lift a finger and have any man upstairs ready to give her anything she wanted…and she knew it. She didn’t need physical devotion to feed her self-esteem. In fact, he suspected it was her unshakeable self-esteem that enabled her to take off her clothes in front of a room full of men and yet remain so completely out of reach of all of them.
She could strip for them, entice them, seduce them…but never lower herself to a level that said she’d ever give them what they wanted.
But now, that’s exactly what she was doing. Offering herself…to him. “I’m flattered,” he said, his tone husky.
She reached for him, scraping the tips of her fingers along the waistband of his pants, tugging a little at his shirt.
“But it’s not going to happen.”
Her hand stilled. “You said you weren’t attached.”
“That’s not the only issue.”
“You’re attracted to me.”
He couldn’t deny something so obvious. “We work together.”
Shrugging in unconcern, she stepped closer, sliding one bare foot between his so that her leg scraped against his thigh. “Working together is what makes it so very…convenient.”
She tilted her head, glancing toward the sturdy-looking vanity, and Nick knew she was picturing a very similar scenario to the one that had filled his mind earlier.
It would be shockingly easy to lift her onto that surface, step between her legs and drive into her body. Or to turn her around, lay her over it and come into her from behind. Their eyes would meet in the mirror…but he wouldn’t see the passion in their depths. He could barely make out their color behind the fabric of her mask. And he knew one thing for sure-he would never make love to the woman as long as she wore the thing.
