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Evan instinctively brushed a few strands of hair from her pretty face and said, “Don’t worry. There are some very simple cures. Nothing invasive at this stage, I promise.”
“Invasive for me would be you telling me to start wearing orthopedic shoes or sneakers.”
His gaze flitted over her, and he gave a slight shake of his head. “No, we caught it in time. And you’re sensational as is, remember?”
“Damn, you can be charming when you want to be.”
Staci’s long lashes fluttered.
Evan’s chest pulled tight. More so than when she’d admitted to being lonely after her big shoe event.
What was that all about?
Was he…falling for her?
Shaking off the wayward thought, he said, “Don’t get me wrong. I strongly suggest you change up your routine and work some lower heels into your week.”
“I gave you two inches this evening.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry. What?”
“These are only four-inch pumps.”
“You did that for me?”
“I conscientiously did.”
“Well, then. That’s a start.” He took a drink of wine. “This is an exceptional Bordeaux, by the way.”
“Finally, we agree on something.” She gave him another smile. An inviting one.
“Yes,” he said. “We do.”
On sheer impulse, Evan bent his head to hers and took her mouth with all of the passion that had been simmering inside him since he’d woken up in his bed without her.
To hell with them being in public.
Chapter Eleven
Holy. Moses!
Evan’s kiss caught Staci off guard at first. It was so unexpected. Spontaneous. Seemingly so unlike him.
But those thoughts only flitted through her mind briefly.
Then, suddenly, there were no thoughts in her head. There was nothing but glorious, overwhelming sensation. Rocketing through her body. Targeting all of her erogenous zones. Making her soar.
His mouth pressed to hers for but a moment before their lips parted and his tongue slipped inside, delving deep, tangling with hers. His hand slid under her hair and he cupped the back of her head, keeping her close—not that she was going anywhere.
Flames instantly ignited, licking at her clit, setting her on fire.
She gripped his arm, her fingers curling around the material of his jacket as she held on for dear life.
He tasted incredibly good. The Bordeaux mixing with something even darker. More tantalizing. Like fiery cinnamon. And good God, did the man know how to deliver a red-hot lip-lock that nearly incinerated her from the inside out.
When he finally pulled away, Staci was breathless. Her veins hummed with electric currents. Her body throbbed in all the right places. And deep in her core, a voracious craving demanded more!
“Holy shit,” she murmured.
