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I narrowed my eyes, leaning back and folding my arms.
“That doesn’t impress me,” I said. “Lots of people own resorts.”
He cocked his head and the corner of his mouth tugged back in a crooked smirk, revealing white teeth. There was something uneven about them and it took me a moment to realize what it was. He had a blunt canine and a sharp one. I cocked my head, surprised that I found it sexy.
He folded his arms over his chest, mimicking me. I tried to be offended for a second, but, my God, he had a nice pair of muscled forearms. Tanned from the sun and speckled with black hairs.
“Fine, no one is meeting me here,” I admitted. I leaned in and took a sip of my drink. “But you could have asked before you sat down.”
“That’s true,” he said. “Let me skip that question and ask another. May I buy you dinner?”
I felt my jaw go slack, but before I could respond, the waiter had appeared. He looked crestfallen that I wasn’t alone anymore. The man turned to face him and his hand tented, his fingertips resting on the table as he asked for the menu. I stared down at his hand as a slow warmth started in my lower belly.
It was lean and his fingers were long with square fingertips. He looked like he did some work with them, enough to give him faint callouses on the heels of his palms.
They looked capable, like he knew just what to do with them. He probably did, with a face like that surely he got a lot of practice.
“Did you already order?”
I shook myself, nodding before I realized I hadn’t said yes to dinner. He smirked again, turning back to the waiter.
“I’ll just have the same,” he said. “What was it…the barramundi?”
“How…how did you know that?” I asked, my brows knitting.
The waiter disappeared and the man turned back to me, crossing his ankle over his knee. He had a casual way of sitting that belied a lot of arrogance and a little…darkness. Like he’d done things that contrasted sharply with his clean, handsome demeanor.
Was I out of my depth?
“They put specials on the board every night and I know they ask everyone if they want the special first,” he said. “So just a lucky guess and a bit of process of elimination.”
The first few sips of my vodka were hitting me, melting my social anxiety. “Oh okay,” I said, matching his smirk. “I didn’t know I was having dinner with Sherlock Holmes tonight.”
“Hardly,” he said. His eyes flicked down over my teal dress, lingering on my breasts. “I didn’t know I was having dinner with Aphrodite tonight.”
He knew that line was a miss and we both laughed, the atmosphere relaxing. I took a deep drink of my vodka soda and lifted my hand for the waiter to bring me another. When I turned back, he was watching me with that faintly amused expression.
“So what do you do?” I asked.
“I’m a hardened criminal,” he said.
I choked, setting my drink down. “What?”
“But when I look at you in that dress, I’m just a hard criminal,” he said.
Goddamn it, he was getting through to me. I clapped my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh and failing miserably. His lips twitched at the corner and his chin jerked, like he knew he was breaking down my walls and he’d expected nothing less.
“So what are you doing in Miami?” he said, fixing those bottomless eyes on me. “All alone. On your own.”
There was an undercurrent to those words that sent a shiver up my spine, but not of fear. More of…anticipation. Like being so far away from home, sitting across from a tall, dark, and sexy stranger, was about to open a forbidden door I’d been scared to unlock before.
My body went still as a realization hit me. I could sleep with this man if I wanted to. He was clearly interested in me, he’d bought me dinner and he was teasing me like he had one goal in mind.
Getting my panties down around my ankles.
My toes curled. If I wanted, I could let him. There was nothing holding me back anymore. Despite my parents best efforts, in my heart I no longer believed it was wrong.
The problem was…my head was still terrified of doing the wrong thing. And it liked to remind me of my fear, guilt, and shame on a regular basis.
