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“How do you know?”
“I noticed during the first act.”
“And we’re here because …?”
“So I could do this,” he said, his mouth opening and planting warm kisses along the side of her neck.
She couldn’t help it. She purred. “So is this like the grown-up version of making out at the movies?”
“I hope to do a lot more than making out.”
Julie’s eyes widened at that. Those glasses hid a naughty side.
“So we’re just casually seeing each other, huh?” he asked, still taking soft bites out of her neck.
She froze before continuing her restless stroking of his back. “Well, what would you call it?”
“That sounds about right.”
Julie swallowed around the disappointment. Give him a break, Jules. It’s only been a week.
Still, she couldn’t resist asking. “Evelyn …?”
“What about her?” He pulled back slightly, and Julie wanted to zip her mouth shut and yank his lips back to her neck.
“Never mind,” she said quickly.
But Mitchell leaned back and met her eyes. “There’s nothing between us.”
“Didn’t look that way from where I was standing,” she grumbled.
He shrugged. “She was hoping there might be a chance at a reunion. I told her no.”
Julie’s heart began to thud. “You did? Why?”
He gave a wicked smile and pulled her into the shadowy corner of the box, where they were out of sight. “Because Evelyn doesn’t put out at the Met.”
Julie gave a soft laugh as she ran her hands over his chest. “So you like me because I’m slutty?”
“Exactly.”
The orchestra began its overture, indicating the end of intermission, and the lights dimmed.
“We’re going to miss the show,” she whispered.
“Thank God,” he whispered back.
And then his hand moved over her breast, and Julie bit back a moan.
They didn’t talk for a long, long time, and when the fat lady sang, Julie wanted to sing right along with her.
As she drifted back to earth, her mind flitted to the article. Maybe this was a new element she could add. Sign he wants to take things to the next level: he rejects his rich ex-girlfriend to make you come in the shadows of the Metropolitan Opera House.
On second thought, Stiletto readers wouldn’t be getting that little bit of wisdom. This was one memory she was saving for herself.
She was starting to worry she wanted to save it all for herself.
Chapter Eight
