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For some reason, every gesture he made was inordinately fascinating. His hands deftly, competently cut a slice and transferred it to the plate. The cheesecake was smoothly returned to the refrigerator. You know you’ve lost it when watching someone serve cake turns you on.
As Will settled on the stool next to hers, Elizabeth could only stare at his hands. So strong and competent. How would they feel stroking her skin?
“Good,” Will said.
Had he read her mind? “Sorry?”
“The cake is good,” he explained as he chewed. “Very rich.”
Cake. He was talking about cake! Not her skin. Was she beginning to obsess? Did she even need to ask? This was definitely obsession territory.
Elizabeth’s head angled down as she kep
t her attention on the cake. Yeah, okay, I’m in love with the guy, but maybe it’s just a crush. A crush would be better, easier to recover from when things don’t work out. Stop obsessing. Focus on something else. Taking another forkful, she savored the rich mocha flavor, the smooth texture.
I can do this; I can clear out the obsessive thoughts. Obsessive thoughts about the President of the United States. Where the hell had her common sense gone? China?
Will cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to his impossibly handsome face. He seemed to be blushing, but it must have been a trick of the light. “Um…when we get back to D.C…” He swallowed. “Would you have dinner with me one night?”
Did he mean a date? Safer to assume he didn’t. “You mean to talk about refugee issues? Sure. Although I might not be the best-qualified person for a policy discussion—”
“Not to discuss policy.” He cut her off. “Although,” he added hastily, “I mean, we can talk about whatever you want.” Will dropped his head into his hands. “God, I’m babbling.” His nervousness was reassuring.
His head rose, and stormy blue eyes met hers. “Elizabeth, will you go on a date with me?”
“Oh.” Impossible to misinterpret that. At the same time, the world had grown slightly surreal. Is this really happening?
His words rekindled all her internal debates, recalling all the logical reasons why opening her heart was a terrible idea. But he was standing before her, somber gray-blue eyes watching her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. At the moment logic seemed like an alien concept.
Her entire body was vibrating at a very high frequency. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Hear the hitch in his breathing. Feel the warmth from his body. As if her every sense had been magnified. Really, there was only one possible response. “Um, sure, I’d love that,” she heard herself say.
His smile started as a mere quirk of the lips and grew into a broad grin. “I’ll try not to be too proud and difficult.”
She winced. “I never should have said that.”
Darcy shook his head, his lips pressed together. “I deserved it. My parents told me to be compassionate to others…but taught me, through their words and actions, to be proud and judgmental.”
She couldn’t stand one more second of not touching him. Reaching out her hand, she stroked Will’s jawline. “When I said that, I didn’t understand you. You have no improper pride…and I was the one being difficult.”
He held his breath, lips slightly opened, completely immobile as if worried about scaring her away. “Wow,” he said softly.
A second later he slid off his stool, and his lips were on hers.
This kiss wasn’t as good as the one on the airplane. It was better. Much better.
She let go of the reservations, the what-ifs, and focused on the moment. Her mouth opened instantly and his tongue stroked hers, tasting of mocha and milk and the faintest hint of mint. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the scent of sandalwood and the unique smell that was Will Darcy. He made a sound, deep in the back of his throat, that signaled his desire…and stoked hers.
His hands flowed around her body; one settled on her upper back while the other caressed her lower back teasingly under the edge of her tank top. The slide of skin against skin was addictive. She craved more. And Will obliged. He inched closer to plunder her mouth more thoroughly. She pulled him closer still by wrapping her legs around his hips and drawing him to her body. He hissed out a breath and embraced her more tightly, the force of his passion pushing Elizabeth’s stool until she bumped against the island.
One of his hands caressed her knee and then skimmed up her leg until his fingers were just under the edge of her shorts. Tingles erupted all over her body. Then his lips slid away from hers, and he trailed a series of small kisses down the side of her neck to her collarbone, nudging the strap of her tank top to the side with his nose so he could nuzzle the soft skin of her shoulder. Elizabeth arched her back, pressing her breasts into his chest where they met firm muscles. A moan erupted from deep in Will’s throat.
Finally, he twisted his lips away from her shoulder and rested his forehead against hers, panting hard. “Oh my God, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth thought she knew how good kissing could be, but she had been sadly misinformed. There was no comparison. It was as if she were kissing for the first time. “If that’s my reward for agreeing to a date, I can’t imagine what my post-date prize will be,” she whispered, her lips teasing his ear.
“There’s no need to wait,” he said in a rather strangled voice. “We could declare this”—with one hand he gestured to the kitchen and empty cake plates—“to be our first official date.”
“Goodness, Mr. President, you move rather fast,” she murmured.
