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My hand finds the back of his neck as the kiss deepens.
I lose all sense of time and place. The sounds of a busy weekend day in Manhattan quiet as everything stills inside of me.
When the kiss finally breaks, he looks into my eyes.
Before he can say anything, I whisper his name. “Roman.”
He kisses me again, but this time it’s soft and gentle. His hand moves to my chin. He cups it in his fingers as he steps back. “That was one hell of a first kiss.”
I smile. “You’re telling me.”
His gaze drops to the daises that are still in his hand. “I’m glad I didn’t have to leave that to fate.”
I am too. His kiss was everything I’d hoped it would be and more.
I’ve never felt this on fire from just a kiss before.
We stare at each other. No words pass between us, but what does is a feeling that’s impossible to describe. I’d call it anticipation, but that’s too tame for it. The desire is strong, but it’s buried beneath something more intense. It’s a need that I’ve never felt for a man before.
“Mr. Hawthorne?”
We both turn at the sound of a woman’s voice. The smile on her face is genuine. The kindness in her eyes is unmistakable.
“Mrs. Blanchard,” Roman says with surprise in his tone. “How are you?”
“Happy to see that you have a life outside the office.” Her hand moves toward me. “I’m Clarice Blanchard, and you are…”
Her voice trails as she waits for me to introduce myself, so I do as I take her hand for a soft shake. “Bianca Marks.”
“Bianca Marks,” she repeats my name. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I offer.
Her gaze shifts from my face to the daisies in Roman’s hand. “Those are beautiful. I’m obviously interrupting a special moment.”
I’m the first to shake my head. “You’re not. I was just about to take off.”
I don’t add that I need space so I can catch my breath. That kiss was more than I expected, and the reaction my body had to it is still lingering. I feel a sudden need for fresh air even though I’m standing under the sun with a warm breeze rushing over me.
“You’re Thurston’s daughter, aren’t you?” Tilting her head, Clarice steps closer. “He’s talked about his brilliant Bianca. That’s you.”
Even though I’m tempted to explain to this woman that my connection to Thurston is based on my mom’s marriage to him, I don’t. Instead, I nod. “Yes.”
She grins. “He’s very proud of you.”
I smile in response because I don’t know what to say. I’m grateful for Thurston’s support. I’ve told him as much.
“I’ll have to tell him I met you.” She looks to Roman. “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Hawthorne. From what I’ve heard from her father, Bianca is an incredible woman.”
I didn’t expect a stranger to sing my praises, but who am I to argue with her?
“Indeed she is,” Roman says with his gaze pinned to me. “If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to say goodbye to Bianca.”
Clarice takes the hint with a measure of grace. “Of course. I’ll stop by your office on Monday. I have another small adjustment I want to make to my will.”
“I look forward to seeing you then.” He turns to look at her. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too.” She glances at me. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Bianca.”
I can honestly say the same, so I do. “I’m glad we had the chance to meet.”
With that, she turns and walks away, leaving me feeling as though I got a small glimpse into Roman Hawthorne, the lawyer.
I liked what I saw.
***
“Thank you again for lunch and the flowers.”
Roman pushes both bouquets at me. “You’re sure you don’t want me to help you carry these home? I can arrange them in a vase next to your bed.”
I do want that, but not yet.
I’m still processing how that kiss made me feel. I need time before I get into bed with him.
I gather the flowers into my arms. “I think I’ll be fine on my own.”
He nods. “I’d move in for another kiss, but all eyes are on us at the moment.”
He’s right. A pretty brown-haired woman with six children is standing behind him. All the kids have their gazes pinned on Roman.
A small girl elbows the boy next to her. “It’s him.”
I suspect she meant to whisper that, but she can’t be more than four or five years old. Whispering takes practice. I know some adults who don’t have that skill mastered yet.
“Leave him alone,” the boy says. “He’s with that pretty lady right now.”
Roman’s brows perk. “The pretty lady he’s referring to has to be you.”
The smile on his face lures one to mine.
He jerks a thumb over his shoulder toward the children. “Let me guess. Three girls, two boys, and a redheaded toddler.”
