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"Since you didn't use the card I gave you, I thought I'd ask you myself."
I step back and place a hand on my hips. "Oh, come on, you gave me your number out of politeness."
"No, I gave it to you because I wanted you to call me."
"Don't lie to me, Nick. Charlotte explained she begged you to bid on me. So, don't consider yourself obligated to ask me out." My breath hitches when he takes a step towards me and gazes deeper into my eyes. I lower them and stare at his chest.
"Yes, it's true. Charlotte asked me to bid on you, but that's not why I did it. I bid on you because I wanted you."
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and he continues.
"I want you to go on a date with me, Emma."
"Why?" I mumble.
He lifts his hand and places his index finger under my chin, tilting it up, so I have no choice but to look at him.
"Because of this," he whispers, keeping whatever this is purely between us.
His thumb skims over my lips, and they part. When he removes his finger, I swallow without breaking eye contact.
"Please, give me a chance to prove I'm not a total pudding-head?" he asks with a smile. "One dinner. If you still think I'm an arrogant, insensitive jerk after that, I will leave you alone."
My entire body is buzzing with Nick's closeness and that intimate but straightforward touch. I can still sense where his thumb grazed my lips. His presence, combined with the warm, earthy smell of his broad body, beaded with sweat, is awakening an unknown, sensual part of me.
"Are you sure? Because I'm not the salad eating, champagne-sipping, upper-class woman, you're used to."
His mouth curls up to a devilish, irresistible grin. "Oh, I'm sure. And for the record, I love a woman with a good appetite." He gives me a once-over that has me melting on the spot, the intensity overwhelming. When his gaze returns to mine, I read determination in those dark eyes of his, and the last ounce ofhesitation vanishes into thin air.
"Okay, I'll go out with you."
For a moment, he seems startled by my answer, but seconds later, his lips lift to smile seductively back at me.
"Thank you, Emma, for giving me a chance."
My cheeks burn from his sincere-sounding thanks.
He takes a step back. "Saturday, at eight o'clock?"
I take a deep breath while I nod my head and do my best to remain calm.
"What's your address?"
"Oh... my address? Wait."
I spin around and walk to the girls, who are watching everything from a distance. Without looking at them or saying a thing, I search the basket and grab my business card and stroll back. When I hold the card out to him, he takes it and reads it—the corner of his mouth twitches.
"The company name suits you," he muses, and my cheeks burn once again while butterflies erupt in my stomach.
Oh my God, is he flirting with me?
"Saturday, eight o'clock, Emma. I'm looking forward to it." He peeks over my shoulder and waves at the girls.
"See you Saturday, Smarty." He gives me another of his seductive smiles, turns around, and leaves.
I stare as he and his fine body run away from me. He so hypnotizes me.
"Why did he say, see you Saturday, Mommy?" I glance at Charlotte, who has a look of confusion on her face.
