Only for You Read Free Page A

with an extremely handsome, attractive man. She’d been curious about Seth Hightower ever since she’d first learned about him from Liza. He was reputed to be a brilliant artist, but also a bit of a lone wolf. Meeting the real man had amped her interest up to fascination. Her heart had lurched against her breastbone in flat-out shock when she had stood panicked in that hallway a moment ago and turned to stare into his inscrutable face.
    Her favorite sculpture had come to life.
    She noticed the champagne bottle looked dwarfed in his large hand. She was fascinated by his arms beneath the short-sleeved white T-shirt he wore. He had to possess the most impressive biceps she’d ever seen. He suddenly jerked to a halt while reaching for a glass. She couldn’t quite interpret the dangerous slant of his dark brows as he turned to regard her, but her heart seemed to recognize why. It leapt into overtime.
    No
wonder
Liza thought Seth Hightower was intimidating.
    “What?” Gia asked, freezing in the act of trying to prop her awkwardly armored body up against some cushions.
    “Liza just turned twenty-five,” he said slowly. “How old are you?”
    She stared at him in blank befuddlement. Why was he bringing up her friend’s age? A thought suddenly struck her.
    “Are you worried I’m not old enough?” she asked, a grin breaking free.
    “Are you?”
    Somehow, his suspicion thrilled her.
He’s asking if you’re of age, but
not
for drinking
. She couldn’t swear the thought that popped into her head was true, but it certainly
felt
that way. Seth appealed to her in an elemental way she’d never before experienced, and she didn’t want him to find
her
lacking in return. Unlike Tommy Valian, Seth was in his thirties, a man in his prime, both physically and in his career and life. And unlike Tommy, when Seth had looked at her earlier, she’d felt like the exact opposite of a naïve ingénue.
    “Don’t worry. I’m plenty old enough,” she assured him, repressing a smile because he was looking so fierce. He merely raised one dark eyebrow and waited. She realized he expected an answer to his question. “I told you I was Liza’s roommate in college. We’re of an age. Do you expect me to show you ID?” she teased him.
    His stare bore into her. She forced herself not to blink or flinch. His tension suddenly dissipated. He turned to pour her champagne. The sound of the liquid flowing into the flute seemed unusually sensual to her. The effervescence from the bubbles seemed to transfer to her, causing a tingle of excitement between her thighs.
    “Cecilia said your name is Gia?”
    “Yes. Gia Harris,” she said, surprised and a little embarrassed to realize she hadn’t even thought to tell him her name.
    He came toward her, holding out the flute. As he handed it to her, a small smile ghosted his lips, perhaps an apology for his former sternness. He had a very hard, very sexy mouth. It fascinated her, to see something she’d grown used to being eternally frozen now animated with life. His face was well-proportioned, bold and . . . somehow
beautiful
, as well, although in a thoroughly masculine way Gia wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced in real life.
    He sat down on the couch, a good portion of the center cushion separating them.
    At the start of their conversation, she was equal parts nervous and excited, so she decided it was best to just focus on his face. As compelling it was, it forced all her worries into the background. Worries about the crucial juncture she was experiencing in her career, about her uncertainty about her life . . . about what she was so uncharacteristically doing here, behind a locked door with a virile stranger.
    Gia wasn’t the type to become enraptured. She didn’t dream; she made plans. Even as a child, she’d been practical.
    But she had to admit, as she stared into Seth Hightower’s indomitable, handsome face, that for the first time in her life, she was utterly entranced. Perhaps it