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Even that turned me on. I wasn’t going to survive thirty-four days without being able to take her.
“My mother went out to lots of lunches and fundraising events,” I said. “It all seemed boring as hell to me as a kid, but now I understand she was actually working damn hard being philanthropic.”
“Oh, my mother wasn’t charitable. She was a socialite. She loved her parties.”
“What about you?” I asked her. “Do you love your parties?”
“Not at all. I left my club days behind in Milan. Being a model there I had VIP access, and I have to admit, that was fun. But when I got back to New York, I was a regular old nobody who had to wait in line. It took some of the thrill out of it.” She eyed me. “Were you one of those frat bros Americans talk about?”
I nodded. “I was in a frat, yes. Though I wouldn’t call myself a bro, I did like a good keg party back a hundred years ago. There is nothing wrong with that, you know. It’s a rite of passage to party at college. I was the king of beer pong.” While maintaining a four point oh GPA, but I didn’t want to brag.
“Were you popular with the girls?” she asked, looking amused.
“Of course,” I said. “I was a fucking catch.” That wasn’t exactly true. I had done all right but I wasn’t taking home a different girl every night. That had never been my style.
“Modest too. What if they ask me what you studied at uni?”
“I majored in biology and bio engineering. But they’re not going to want details. Besides, just tell them you were eight when I was in college.”
She laughed. “That sounds horrid. And truthfully, I was more like six.”
“Thanks for pointing that out. If you call me daddy again, I can’t promise you I won’t do whatever it takes to make you stop.” Just the thought made me want to push her down onto the couch and distract her with my tongue.
“Oh, tempting,” she said. “But I will behave. For now.”
Damn. “That’s disappointing.”
“I’ll make it up to you later.”
I really, really hoped so. I squeezed her knee and looked at Felicia. Why did she fascinate me so much? I wasn’t sure, but she had me totally wrapped around her finger.
* * *
“We need to know each other’s toothpaste brands. That has to be in the interview.”
Michael was wearing flannel pajama pants and a soft T-shirt and looking quite domestic and adorable. It was going to be hell to be snuggling up against his muscular body in bed and not have sex. But I had to keep some kind of boundary in place or I’d fall madly in love and then if it didn’t work out, I’d be both tossed out of the States and devastated with a broken heart. No, thank you.
“Why would that be in the interview?”
“Because it was in The Proposal.”
His eyebrows rose as he came up to the sink next to me. “You think a movie has accurate information on immigration interviews? And I don’t remember that being in The Proposal anyway.” He shook his head. “But fine. This is an easy one. What toothpaste do you use?”
He picked up my tube. “What is this? Macleans. I’ve never heard of it.”
I snatched it back. “It’s British. I’m very brand loyal.”
He’d already lost interest. His hand came up and his finger strolled along the neckline of my nightgown. “I like this.”
“You need to tell me your toothpaste brand,” I said, determined to keep him on track. And him giving me that look was not helping my resolve to abstain from sex.
“Crest.” He was totally in my personal space. “Do you wear these silky things every night?” His finger ran down over my nipple and down my abdomen.
I nodded. “Cotton gets twisted. I can’t stand to sleep in pants either.”
“This is very sexy.”
I held my toothbrush up between us, preventing him from kissing me. “Brush your teeth, Michael.”
