One Night With Her Read Free Page B

seemed to sparkle, a hint
of wicked delight in them.
    Same drink, same time, same absolutely
smoking-hot guy she’d spotted an hour before. One barstool away.
When she set the glass down, she said, “Jinx.”
    “Jinx,” he repeated.
    “Does that mean you owe me a drink?” she
asked, and then nearly clasped her hand over her mouth. But
instead, she went with it. “Sorry, that’s pretty much close to the
cheesiest pick-up line ever.”
    His lips curved slightly into a grin. “Does
that mean you’re trying to pick me up?”
    She laughed, and shook her head. The silvery
metal surface of the bar revealed a rush of red racing to her
cheeks as she answered. “No.”
    She wasn’t, right? Those words had just
tumbled out accidentally, not because she’d seen him earlier and
memorized his face, and not because one quick glance at Mr. Cool,
Calm and Collected had her adding him to an arsenal of possible
late-night ammunition to feed her active fantasy life.
    Very, very active, and she fed it regularly.
With Tumblr, with toys, and with wild images of pleasure.
    “That’s too bad then,” he said, and his
voice was deep, with the slightest rasp to it, like velvet that had
a rough edge. That edge in it sent goose bumps down her spine. Or
maybe it was his words, the hint of possibility to them.
    “Is it? Too bad?” she asked, tilting her
head to the side, shifting her body language, one hundred percent
aware that she was getting her flirt on.
    “Not just too bad. It would be a
travesty.”
    She brought her hand to her heart, playing
along. “How sad. I’d hate to be responsible for a disaster of that
degree.”
    “You could avert it, then,” he said dryly,
arching an eyebrow, then taking another swallow of his drink. The
sight of his lips on the glass had her mind galloping off to a
naughty land, because those lips looked delicious. Soft and
kissable, while the rest of him looked hard and strong. She liked
the way his tie was loosened, and his jacket draped over his chair.
A businessman in repose.
    “I could, couldn’t I? If I were interested
in avoiding such a sad turn of events.”
    “Are you, though? Interested?” he asked.
    Michelle was almost certain a butterfly had
taken off in her belly because her stomach flipped, and it was
primed to flop again. “I’m getting there,” she said playfully,
enjoying the back and forth, the very fine layer of innuendo that
lined this conversation like a cool evening mist after a hot day.
She brought her glass to her lips and took another drink, hoping it
would have the same effect on him that his sip had had on her.
    “Excellent,” he said, giving her a quick,
appreciative nod. “So . . . are you having a good evening?”
    “I am, as a matter of fact. Productive day,
energetic evening, perhaps a satisfying night overall,” she said,
and he chuckled softly when she said satisfying .
    “What would make your night satisfying?” he
asked, his cool blue gaze pinned on her. Then he raked his eyes
over her, and she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the possibility
that he liked what he saw.
    “I enjoy a satisfying conversation.” She
threw down the gauntlet. He seemed a good sparring partner.
    “Let’s satisfy you conversationally then,”
he said, picking up the challenge easily. “Now, I could ask you
what you do for a living, but everyone does that. I could ask what
brings you to this hotel, but that’s also trite. Instead, why don’t
we talk about something that people don’t usually discuss. For
instance, what is your favorite body part?”
    She burst into laugher at his
out-of-left-field question and the completely deadpan manner he
asked it in, but then quickly grabbed the baton of the
conversation. “On me, I would have to say it’s my elbows. I have
absolutely amazing elbows,” she said, crooking her arm and showing
him her elbow.
    “Wow. You’re right. Those are glorious
elbows. Smooth and soft, and yet pointy, too. And they make the