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I laughed. “I don’t see that there’s anything keeping you from enjoying my manly assets, which are at your disposal.”

I knew she was probably going to say no, but I wanted to give her every chance. I hoped she would take it, but given her history, I had my doubts.

She looked like she wanted to say yes, but couldn’t.

“I really should go home now,” she said and checked her watch again.

“Let’s walk a bit first.” I offered her my hand, wanting to postpone our parting. “It’s such a beautiful warm night.”

I took her hand and led her out of the café. Then we talked about nothing in particular but everything at the same time – her classes, Brimstone, everything except what was hanging between us – whether she would come with me to my hotel room.

After about fifteen minutes, I stopped and waved to the driver of the limo. “Let’s drive the rest of the way.”

The driver got out and opened the door. I helped Mira in, trying to be as much of a respectful gentleman as I could muster.

“Where to, Sir?”

“The hotel.”

Mira glanced at me. I was going to try to convince her, but only very gently. When we drove off, I put my arm around her shoulders and helped her with her seatbelt. She was nervous – I could tell by the way she smiled, her mouth quivering a bit. She was so beautiful, her long auburn hair falling softly on her shoulders, her cheeks flushed from the walk. Her dress hugged her delicious curves and yet wasn’t over the top sexy.

“You have a delicious mouth,” I said. “I want to kiss it again. I’ve wanted to kiss it again ever since you kissed me.”

Then I did kiss her, and she let me. In fact, more than let me – she kissed me back and that gave me hope.

I wanted her so much. My reasons were just as venal as any other hot red-blooded American male. She was beautiful and desirable, but also, I wanted to do more than just fuck her. I wanted her to want me. I wanted her to be helpless to refuse her own desire for me.

I slipped my hand from her shoulder to her waist, and then around her nicely curved hip. I broke the kiss and looked in her eyes.

“Your body is so lush.” I kissed her again and continued to explore her body, my hand roving over her silky dress, down her thigh to her knee, and then up between her legs.

Of course, the car stopped in front of the Yacht Club at that precise moment. I pulled away. “The driver will take you home from here.”

Then I brushed hair from her cheek, and kissed her once more, this time, more deeply, needing to impart some of my desire for her so she knew that if she wanted me, I was hers.

When I pulled away, her eyes were closed like she was swept up with desire.

“Come up with me,” I whispered.

“I’m not…” she whispered, and I could hear regret in her voice.

“I know you’re not,” I said and put a finger to her lips. “It’s just so rare to meet someone who is so perfect for me in every way. I can’t stand the thought of you just walking out of my life.”

I stepped out of the car before turning back to her.

“Come upstairs with me, Miranda,” I said and took her hand, pulling her out with me, gently. “Don’t leave me out here counting stars…”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Miranda

Beckett stood at arms-length, a slight tug on my hand. I took him in—tall, blond, well-built, narrow hips, his hair now a bit wild, his blue eyes heated. He looked like a million dollars in his suit and crisp white shirt, black silk tie.

He was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen, let alone imagined being with.

I let him pull me, giving in – to him and to my own desires.

We walked in silence into the hotel, a high-end three-story building attached to the private marina. Inside was all dark wood and brocade wallpaper with thick Persian carpets and mirrors everywhere. We passed the concierge and took the elevator and I was glad it came right away, because I didn’t know what to say to him, now that I’d decided to go to his room. This was the part of a date I had little experience with and felt awkward, but Beckett seemed as if he knew what he was doing so I let him lead.

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