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She waited. “So?” she prompted. “Shall we go out there? Get in their faces?”
Drew stuck his hand in the elevator door as it started to close again and they stepped out, shoulder to shoulder, to the constant flashing of the cameras on every side.
Act confident, silly girl. Smile. Act like Drew Maddox is your boyfriend.
Wow, that was some potent make-believe magic. It made her suddenly three inches taller. Her chest swelled out, her chin went up, her face turned pink.
They wound their arms together and clasped hands. Jenna wasn’t sure which of them had initiated the contact. It seemed to happen of its own accord. The building security people finally caught up with the photographers and blocked them from following them out the main entrance, and an older man in a suit hurried out after them, his face clearly anxious. “The car’s waiting, Mr. Maddox,” he said. “I am so sorry about this. We had no idea they were going to descend on you like that.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Sykes. Let them take all the pictures they want from behind the glass but I’d appreciate if you’d keep them in the lobby until Ms. Somers’s car is gone.”
Drew pulled her toward the big Mercedes SUV idling at the curb. “Here’s your ride,” he said. “We still on for tonight? I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind. The paparazzi are a huge pain in the ass. Like a weather condition. Or a zombie horde.”
“I’m still game,” she said. “Let ’em do their worst.”
That got her a smile that touched off fireworks at every level of her consciousness.
For God’s sake. Get a grip, girl.
“I’ll pick you up at eight fifteen,” he said. “Our reservation at Peccati di Gola is at eight forty-five.”
“I’ll be ready,” she promised.
“Can I put my number into your phone, so you can text me your address?”
“Of course.” She handed him her phone and waited as he tapped the number into it. He hit Call and waited for the ring.
“There,” she said, taking her phone back. “You’ve got me now.”
“Lucky me,” he murmured. He glanced back at the photographers, still blocked by three security men at the door, still snapping photos. “You’re no delicate flower, are you?”
“By no means,” she assured him.
“I like that,” he said. He’d already opened the car door for her, but as she was about to get inside, he pulled her swiftly back up again and covered her mouth with his.
His kiss was hotter than the last one. Deliberate, demanding. He pressed her closer, tasting her lips.
Oh. Wow. He tasted amazing. Like fire, like wind. Like sunlight on the ocean. She dug her fingers into the massive bulk of his shoulders, or tried to. He was so thick and solid. Her fingers slid helplessly over the fabric of his jacket. They could get no grip.
His lips parted hers. The tip of his tongue flicked against hers, coaxed her to open, to give herself up. To yield to him. His kiss promised infinite pleasure in return. It demanded surrender on a level so deep and primal, she responded instinctively.
She melted against him with a shudder of emotion that was absolutely unfaked.
Holy crap. Panic pierced her as she realized what was happening. He’d kissed her like he meant it, and she’d responded in the same way. Naturally as breathing.
She was so screwed.
Jenna pulled away, shaking. She felt like a mask had been pulled off. That he could see straight into the depths of her most private self.
Drew helped her into the car and gave her a reassuring smile and a friendly wave as the car pulled away, like it was no big deal. As if he hadn’t just tongue-kissed her passionately in front of a crowd of photographers and caused an inner earthquake.
Her lips were still glowing. They tingled from the contact.
She couldn’t let her mind stray down this path. She was a means to an end.
It was Drew Maddox’s nature to be seductive. He was probably that way with every woman he talked to. He probably couldn’t help himself. Not even if he tried.
She had to keep that fact firmly in mind.
All. The. Time.
