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“Comfort isoverrated.”
There was a promise in his voice that sent a current of electricity through herbody.
She ducked into her bedroom, where she slipped the bra off without unzipping the dress. She returned to the hall without looking in the mirror, not wanting to give herself a reason to be any more self-conscious than she alreadywas.
He dropped his gaze to her breasts when she stepped into the hall. Approval lit his eyes — approval, and something else she couldn’tname.
“Perfect.” He returned his eyes to her face. “Shallwe?”
She nodded and reached for hercoat.
He took it from her and she turned around to slip her arms into the waiting sleeves. His mouth was near the back of her neck in the moment before he settled the coat onto her shoulders. His hands lingered there and she waited, strangely — thrillingly — under his command, until he dropped them back at hissides.
She tucked her new clutch under her arm, stepped into the vestibule, and closed and locked thedoor.
He slipped her hand into his arm as they walked down the stairs, leading her patiently, as if he knew she was holding her breath against the possibility of falling in thestilettos.
She wondered what he thought about the peeling paint on the walls of her building, the narrow staircase, the smell of damp and oldconcrete.
When they stepped outside, Jack’s driver — she remembered Jack calling him Reggie — was standing next to a black stretch limo with tinted windows. He rushed to open the back door, and Jack waited as she slid into thecar.
She tried not to show her nervousness as Reggie started the engine and pulled away from thecurb.
She was way out of herleague.
Jack leaned forward and removed a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket set inside the ledge in front of theirseats.
“I believe the kids call this pregaming,” he said, reaching for twoglasses.
She laughed, remembering Karen saying the same thing, and some of her nervousnessdissipated.
“You find the word amusing?” heasked.
“Not the word so much as the way you said it,” she said. “It sounded so…formal.”
“You don’t like formal?” he asked as hepoured.
“To be honest, I don’t have much experience withit.”
“That kind of experience isn’t important tome.”
“Whatis?”
“The kind of experience that makes one resilient. The kind that makes one willing to try new things.” He handed her one of the glasses. “Are you willing to try new things,Nina?”
Challenge ran under his words like acurrent.
It terrified her. It thrilledher.
“I think so,” shesaid.
He touched his glass to hers. “To new things then. May they challenge and exciteus.”
