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Bella smiled, then slid her eyes back to Blake. The corner of his lips curved arrogantly as if he held some private amusing information about her.
She wasn’t sure if it turned her on or irritated her.
Both.
“I—” Taylor started, then frowned. “This is Blake Dufort. Do you guys know each other?”
Dufort?
Blake was a Dufort.
That explained a lot. From his insane hotness to those startling gray eyes and commanding presence.
“We met earlier,” Blake said, still not glancing away. “How are you, Bella?”
Completely uncomfortable.
Wet.
About to have a heart attack. Or orgasm.
I’m not sure which one.
Possibly both. At the same time.
His smile stretched a little more and finally his eyes left hers as he pulled out a seat for her.
“Sit,” his deep voice instructed. And just as she’d dressed in her sexiest outfit for him, Bella found herself obeying him once again.
“I’ve ordered a couple of bottles of wine,” Taylor said, turning to Rhonda. “The New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc you like.”
“I can’t believe you know that,” Rhonda exclaimed.
“You’d be surprised what I’ve paid attention to.” Taylor winked.
Bella smiled, glancing away as her friend blushed. She was happy for them. If they didn’t make it work after tonight, then there was no hope. She had a sense Taylor and Rhonda were both ready to be honest with one another. Or at least they would be once the wine started flowing.
As Taylor and Rhonda began chatting, Blake leaned closer. “You look very sexy.”
God, how did he do that?
Her body physically shivered as the heat of his arm touched hers. And like a peacock, she wanted to spread out her wings and preen under his flattery.
But she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, and now they were here, Bella decided to face the situation head on.
She turned.
“Thank you.” She felt her cheeks heat further as she took in all of the huge muscular goodness that was Blake Dufort.
Now that she could see.
Earlier, she’d been without her glasses. Now she had her contacts in and had twenty-twenty vision, allowing her to drown in his stunning gray eyes.
His wide shoulders and thick biceps stretched beneath the cotton of his blue shirt. Why, oh, why did he have to have his sleeves rolled up so his muscular forearm was leaning on the table like something out of a men’s magazine?
Bella cleared her throat.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and then a hint of a dimple appeared. Instead of coming across roguish, Blake Dufort was showing he was in complete control.
