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‘A peda—what, now?’ he asked.
‘A pedalo. It’s like a small paddle boat with pedals you use to propel it, usually on a boating lake...’ She babbled to a stop as those beautifully sculpted lips tipped up even further at the edges.
Shut up, Cassie, why are you composing an encyclopaedia entry on pedalos for him?
‘Interesting,’ he said, even though they both knew what she’d just said wasn’t interesting in the slightest. ‘You’re British, right?’
‘What gave me away?’ she asked, and the appreciation in his eyes added a spurt of exhilaration to the tangle of nerves in her belly.
She took another hasty sip of the champagne to calm them. It didn’t work.
‘The cute accent,’ he said, with that dangerous gaze roaming over her face. ‘And the peaches and cream complexion.’
Her peaches and cream complexion heated accordingly.
‘You blush real prettily too, cher,’ he added.
Her cheeks promptly ignited.
The sun had dipped behind the headland in the distance and a row of flaming torches was now lighting the gardens edged by a lavish arboretum—expertly planted with everything from Mesoamerican ferns to African impatiens, according to the plaques Cassie had read while trying to pluck up the courage to talk to strangers. But even in the glow of twilight Luke Broussard had to be able to see her blush. The fact that he seemed to be enjoying her gaucheness wasn’t making Cassie feel any less out of her depth.
‘What does that mean?’ she asked, trying
to steer the conversation back to neutral territory and give herself time to get her breathing back on track. ‘Shar?’ she asked, struggling to pronounce the word he’d used. ‘It sounds French.’
‘Cher?’ he said again, and she nodded. ‘It’s Louisiana French, or French Cajun. I’m from the bayou originally—a sleepy little town just outside Lafayette.’
It was more information than she’d been able to glean about him online, but as she tried to think of a follow-up question his emerald-green irises darkened to a rich jade.
‘And cher is Cajun for cherie...which is what you call a lady when you like the way she blushes.’
‘Oh,’ she managed, and her next question was drowned out by the thunder of her heartbeat.
Was Luke Broussard hitting on her? It seemed so outside the realms of possibility that she didn’t know what to do with the information. Other than pray it didn’t send her pulse-rate any further into the red zone. Passing out would definitely not be good.
She knew she wasn’t a troll, and that Ashling’s dress was doing its best to advertise every single one of her assets. But right now she really wished she had a lot more sexual experience than a few unimpressive kisses at college... For example, was the heavy weight now wedged between her thighs and pulsing in time with her heartbeat normal?
She’d always assumed she wasn’t a sexual person. And she had always thought she preferred it that way. Her career was all she needed, because it defined her and motivated her and gave her life meaning and purpose.
But that had been before she’d stood in the glow of firelight, inhaled the scent of salt water and rose petals and pine soap carried on the summer breeze off San Francisco Bay, and felt a strange thrill charge through her system as Luke Broussard’s attention—and those playful green eyes—focussed solely on her.
She couldn’t think clearly...couldn’t feel anything but the prickle of sensation awakening every one of her nerve-endings...and couldn’t say anything except, ‘That’s...very sweet.’
Broussard’s brows shot up, and he barked out an astonished laugh. ‘Fair warning...’ His gaze darkened as he traced his fingertip over her burning cheek. ‘No woman has ever accused me of being sweet, cher.’
The casual endearment sounded anything but sweet in his deep, husky purr, and the torturously light touch ignited the weight between her thighs.
‘My name’s Luke Broussard,’ he said. ‘Of Broussard Tech,’ he added, as if there was any need—surely everyone in San Francisco knew who he was?
‘I know,’ she said.
‘That leaves me at a disadvantage. Because I don’t know who you are.’
‘Cassandra James. I work for Zachary Temple at Temple Corp as his executive assistant.’
She bit her tongue the minute the words were out of her mouth. Should she have told him that? After all she was supposed to be here incognito, until Temple made a decision on her investment report’s recommendations.
To her relief, he seemed unfazed by the information.
