A surge of testosterone made his heart pound faster. “You look beautiful, Ms. Redding.”
“Mr. Santini.”
“Call me Luciano.”
She stepped outside, locked her front door.
“You can call me Ms. Redding.” She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow before dropping her gaze to check him out. Slowly. And he loved every second of her eye-fuck.
“You clean up well,” she said.
That constant pull to touch her had him stroking her back. Once. Twice. Then, he removed his hand. This wasn’t a date. This was a one-off meeting. He wanted information. He owed her physical gratification. It sounded cold, but he didn’t want toread too much into their evening. He didn’t trust her, and he knew nothing about her. Most likely, she had her own agenda.
Stuart opened the back door of the Rolls Royce. She slid in, he followed. Seconds later, the sedan pulled onto the street.
“Something smells good,” she said.
“Coq au Vin.”
“If you’re doing this to get me to talk, it’s not happening,” she said.
“At all?” he asked. “I’m not talking about myself all evening.”
“Most men love talking about themselves.”
“Not me.” After a beat, he said, “I won’t ask you why you’ve been following me if you don’t hide surveillance devices on my yacht.”
She opened her small clutch and showed him. “Beyond lip gloss, my cell phone, and my driver’s license—so they can ID my body when it washes up on shore—there’s nothing.”
He ran the back of his fingers over her soft cheek. “Only pleasure. No pain.”
“Death isn’t always painful.”
His heart squeezed. All death was painful. If not to the victims, then to the survivors.
Forcing himself to stay in the moment, he said, “Ms. Redding, I’m going to make you writhe in ecstasy until you surrender to the pleasure again and again.”
“Ohgod.” Her breathy whisper floated in the air between them.
Their undeniable connection had him peering into her eyes, the pull to kiss her impossible to ignore. It was like nothing he’d experienced, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
“What excites you?” he murmured.
“I’m a voyeur,” she said. “That’s why I went to Burke’s. I don’t like hookups, so I wouldn’t have had sex with a stranger.”
“Why did you have sex with me?”
“I’ve been watching you for weeks. You didn’t feel like a stranger.”
Same.
She crossed her legs and the slit in her jumpsuit revealed her toned thigh. Like a magnet, he was drawn to her shapely leg.
With a gleam in her eyes, she took his hand, pressed his palm against her thigh. In that split second, everything jumped to Mach speed. Her breathing changed, a moan shot out of him. The air turned electric. When she slicked her tongue over her lower lip and glanced at his mouth, he captured her face in his hands, leaned over, and kissed her.
“Mmm,” she purred as she pressed her tongue inside.
He kissed her slowly, relishing the way their tongues tangled, the seductive, growly sounds she made every time he caressed her bare thigh. She curled her long fingers around his biceps and squeezed, then intensified their kiss. Ignoring his trapped boner, he ran his fingers through her soft hair, letting the strands tickle his fingers. Then, he slowed the kiss, dropped a soft one on her lips before breaking away.
