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"I'm not." She tugged down the hem on her skirt which seemed to want to ride up. "Who knew dressing to seduce could be so irritating?"
She never would have twisted her ankle if she'd been wearing her normal shoes.
"Tell me your sizes and I'll get something delivered."
"What? No. That's a waste of energy and money when I have perfectly good clothing at home."
"But I want you to stay here, and I want you to be comfortable. You like that designer?" he asked, referring to her dress.
"Usually, yes." The dress she was wearing was from a different line than she usually shopped. And now that she was supporting herself, she needed to eschew designer labels all together.
If she did keep the money and assets she'd gotten from her divorce, she wasn't using them to continue supporting a lifestyle that had never made her happy. She liked hanging out with her friends in places that did not get written up in the social pages, or go viral on social media. She liked her little apartment and her neighbors that came from so many different walks of life.
"Give me a moment and I'll take care of it."
"Wouldn't it be easier to simply give my apartment key to one of your goons and send them to pick up some clothes for me?"
He shrugged. "There is nothing difficult about sending a personal shopper out for some outfits for you to choose from."
"You live in a very rarified world." Even more rarified than the one she'd known most of her life.
They settled on the couch after that, he insisting she put her ankle up on a cushion on the chaise. She didn't mind because it gave her some breathing room with the attraction threatening to overwhelm her. Not a lot, because he sat right beside her, but it wasn't instant sexy times.
They started watching the documentary on the hummingbirds. Despite having the most tantalizing man she'd ever known only inches away, Rowan quickly found herself engrossed. The housekeeper came in with drinks for them. Rowan's turned out to be a splash of cranberry and pineapple juice mixed with club soda and served over ice. It was refreshing and the cookies brought with it delicious.
Lysander put his arm around her shoulder and she let herself relax against him. As much as she was enjoying the documentary, this closer proximity soon began to wreak havoc with her senses. The heat of his body so close, the hard muscles of his chest pressing against her arm and shoulder, the scent that was so much more than the masculine aftershave he wore.
She shifted to get closer, inhaling that delicious smell that was all Lysander Baros and felt her skirt sliding up her legs. Darn it.
Vowing never to wear this dress again, she tugged her hem down, squirming as she did so.
"You really are uncomfortable in that dress," he said, sounding surprised.
"I thought I wouldn't be wearing it long," she admitted and then wished she hadn't.
He already knew she wanted him. He didn't need more proof.
"If things had gone according to your plan, you wouldn't have," he said with certainty. "I want to touch you badly."
"But I like that we're not just jumping into bed," she admitted.
"Not all sex happens in the bedroom." The tone of his voice made her look away from the beautiful little birds fighting over territory on the screen and up at him.
He was looking at her, specifically at how much of her curvy breasts were on display with her plunging neckline. She wasn't model thin, or anything close to it. Her tummy wasn't flat, and her butt filled out a pair of jeans very nicely. Her large breasts would easily fill his hands.
At six and a half feet tall, Lysander had big hands. And the thought of them on her body made Rowan's nipples tingle.
"I've never had sex outside of a bedroom," she admitted, just a little breathless at the idea.
Sure, she'd read about it. Books made lots of things seem possible that she'd never experienced in real life. Like a happy marriage. Like parents that put their children's happiness above their own desire for money, power and prestige. Like passion and fun and lots of other stuff besides.
Stuff that felt all to possible when she was with this man.
Lysander Baros.
His eyes had darkened, looking nearly black, his expression intent. "Never?"
Incapable of speech, Rowan shook her head.
