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At lunch? On a Monday? Baffled, she watched the CEO of a multibillion-dollar corporation pull a bottle from a bed of ice and pop the cork. He handed her a glass flute that had been blown into the shape of a delicate tulip, the stalk of the flower forming the stem.
When in Rome. She sipped the champagne because she had a feeling she’d need it. Warren clinked his glass to hers, watching her over the rim as he drank his own. And then, when her attention was fully occupied, he reached up and pulled the clip from her hair.
As it fell out of the twist and down around her shoulders, he stuck the clip in his pocket. “I’ll put it back later. Still my secret.”
“Warren,” she squawked and choked on the word as she registered the rising electricity arcing between them.
“Shh. I’m only looking at you.”
She should protest. Or something. But they were hidden from the street, encased in their own private sanctuary. Her hair brushed her nape and it was incredibly freeing. What was the harm in letting her scalp breathe for a while?
When Warren led her to the heavy canvas spread across the grass, she found out.
Instead of focusing on drinking his champagne, he took off his shoes and reclined on the ground, gesturing for her to join him. She followed his example and stretched out. It took less than a second for his gaze to grow heavy with dark, delicious intent.
“I love your hair,” he murmured. He didn’t move, but she felt his voice curling through her midsection like a dense fog. “It’s such a rich color, and with that slight wave, it looks like it’s alive.”
“It’s just hair.” But there was no harm in being secretly pleased with the compliment.
“I beg to differ. ‘Just hair’ wouldn’t do this.” Before she could protest, he pressed her hand to his chest. His heartbeat galloped along at a breakneck pace, and if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was as swept up in the romance of this garden lunch date as she was.
“Maybe you should lay off the caffeine,” she advised. “You always drink at least two test items from the research lab every morning.”
“Tilda. Don’t be dense.” His thumb stroked down her palm as he set aside first his champagne flute, then hers. “My out-of-control pulse is not because I had an energy drink. It’s all you. You’re so sexy, I can’t process it sometimes.”
Heat prickled through her cheeks, flooding along her hairline. Might as well sport a big neon sign that announced he’d flustered her. “Not in this outfit.”
“In that outfit,” he corrected and trailed a fingertip along the buttons of her tailored shirt. “Because I know what’s under it. Secrets. Here, let me show you.” When she started to pull away, he clamped down on her palm, holding it in place against his thundering heart. “Stay with me. Trust me. I’m just going to show you how sexy you are.”
That statement was so intriguing that she didn’t move. Couldn’t. He fingered the top button of her shirt and slipped it free, then slid to the next one. She couldn’t breathe as the intensity of the moment pushed down on her chest while his touch simultaneously lit up her center.
It was a horrible, magnificent paradox. She’d long given up feeling safe enough to be with a man again, but Warren had patiently sorted through all her barriers. Still was. But she was still half turned-on and half anxious.
The next button popped from its slot and he peeled back her blouse into a V that revealed the slightest bit of cleavage. His hum of approval vibrated against her palm and it loosened something inside her.
Without a word, he leaned over and replaced his fingers with his mouth, kissing the slice of breast he’d uncovered but going no farther than the line he’d created with her blouse. She let her fingertips nip into his chest, registering his heartbeats as a barometer of his excitement—it was nearly as good as having a mindreading device. How great a concept was that?
It got even better as he mouthed his way up the column of her throat and wandered along her jawline. If she moved her head a fraction, they’d be kissing. The anticipation coiled through her belly, releasing as he settled his lips at the corner of her mouth in a light, exploratory nibble that rushed through her center.
One taste wouldn’t kill anyone.
She turned her head to catch him just right. The kiss brewed for a half second before becoming a reality, mouths aligned and so very hot. She moaned as his hands slid down her back, and he rolled her half beneath him. The kiss turned carnal and heavy in a flash as his leg notched between hers, riding against her skirt, which he quickly gathered up at her thigh, exposing more of her secrets than she’d expected for a Monday afternoon.
