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“Shall we get a drink?” she suggested in a quiet voice, enjoying their cozy connection, even though dozens of people milled around the lounge.
“Whatever you want,” he said, also keeping his tone low. Conspiratorial.
Her inner muscles squeezed tight. All that raw intensity exuding from him sent her into sensory overload. And his skin on hers... Tague held her hand gently, but his flesh was hot enough to incinerate her. A sinful heat that spread throughout her body.
Loralai had no idea how long they stood there, eyes locked. Eventually, Tague gave a slight tug on her hand and he guided her to the bar.
Chip greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a knockout, as always.”
“Thank you. The two of you are quite dashing,” she offered. “I noticed Helena just arrived. She’ll be pleased to see you again.”
“And that would be my cue to seek her out before she meets someone else to share those amazing feet with.”
“I’m pretty sure she was searching specifically for you, Chip,” Loralai told him. “She booked a tucked-away table for two, but came alone.”
“Not when I’m done with her.” There was a glint in his eyes over his innuendo. He drained his scotch and said to Tague, “Put everything on my tab. They log it into the system, all gratuity-free, so don’t worry about tipping. A portion of my membership fee covers it. You don’t need to sign for anything. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.” He grinned at Loralai. “Try not to blow his mind this evening. Tague has a nine a.m. presentation to give.”
Beside her, Tague snickered.
Loralai fought the flush rising along her neck and cheeks. “I promise to have him in bed by curfew.”
Chip laughed a bit heartier. “I’m hoping he has company.”
She shook her head at him. “Go.” To Tague, she said, “He’s sweet. But incorrigible.”
Tague’s dark eyes bore into her, turning her nerve endings into livewires. “Feel free to blow my mind this evening,” he said in his deep, sexy voice. “And for the record, I happen to have an extremely comfortable bed.”
Searing lust flared within her.
Loralai’s body naturally gravitated to Tague’s, until the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest, tickling the centers into even tauter points. He wore a pewter-colored suit with a black shirt that was opened at the neck, just enough to give her a tantalizing view of the inner swells of his hard pecs. Her fingers burned to caress the skin there. To feel the muscles flex beneath her touch.
The warning signals she’d experienced when Jace had tried to convince her she was in over her head with Tague just by accepting his dinner invitation returned full force.
Yet tonight, they offered more titillation than fear. Everything about the man had her brimming with desire and wet with wanting him.
Because she’d thought of very little else since meeting him. And now—
9
She would have stayed lost in his dark, entrancing gaze forever if the bartender hadn’t joined them. Her attention shifted.
“You
r preference this evening, Miss Branson?” Simon asked.
“The 2002 Perrier Jouët Belle Epoque Blanc de Blanc. Please deliver the bottle to my table. And put it on my tab.” She glanced back at Tague. “I get a fantastic discount.” She winked.
“I really can’t allow you to buy the champagne.”
“But I insist.” She told the bartender, “Two glasses.” Then crooked a brow at Tague. “Yes?”
“Fine. I’m beginning to think you can talk me into anything.”
“As it should be.” She smiled. “Follow me.” Their hands were still entwined and she led him around the massive bar toward the far end of the lounge.
Tague asked, “You own this place?”
Over her shoulder, she said, “No. My girlfriend, Meg, does.”
