The Return of the Tycoon Read Free Page B

cheated,” he pointed out, pouring them a second round.
    “I didn’t really cheat,” she insisted. “You snooze; you lose.”
    “I demand a rematch.” He lifted his glass in the air. “This time, I will do the counting.” This time, their empty glasses hit the table in unison.
    “You see,” Nicholas pointed out. “You can’t beat me when you don’t cheat.” The pizza arrived, and Julie reached for the biggest slice, folding it and scooping the extra cheese with her fingertips. She plopped the cheese ball in her mouth and shook her head.
    “No, and I can still outdrink you.” Nicholas leaned back and watched her take a big bite of the pizza, her eyes rolling back with pleasure at the taste. God, when was the last time he saw a woman eat as if she enjoyed it? Julie didn’t complain about the menu. She didn’t ask to see nutrition facts or order some piddling salad to pick at. Nick was used to dates grilling the waiter to death to end up with only a glass of red wine and a pile of lettuce leaves with no dressing. He’d forgotten how much fun it could be just to go out with a woman who loved good food and enjoyed it without guilt. “I don’t see how a tie proves you can outdrink me.”
    “Well,” Julie wiped her fingers on the napkin in her lap. “You see, you’re at least twice my size. Thus, you ought to be able to consume twice as much as I, twice as fast.”
    Nicholas threw back his head in laughter. “You have it backward,” he pointed out. “And you’re the one with the science degree.”
    Julie narrowed her eyes, the pizza halting midway to her mouth.
    “Surface-to-area ratio,” he clarified. “The mouse has a higher metabolism than the elephant.”
    Julie shook her head. “The only thing you’ve proved, Nick,” she said, “is that you’re better off sticking to business. A gram of mouse tissue has a higher metabolic rate than a gram of elephant tissue, but there’s a whole hell of lot more grams in an elephant. Therefore, over all, the elephant still has a much higher metabolism.” Julie looked so smug that Nicholas couldn’t help grinning at her despite himself. If anyone could correct him, it was Julie Miller. She was the only one allowed to cross him, and for reasons unknown to him, whenever she did gave him great pleasure.
    “Well said, Miss Miller,” he told her, filling their glasses for a third time. Julie reached for hers only to stop with the glass raised midair.
    “You’re not trying to get me drunk, are you?” she asked, her brows knit in skepticism.
    “Of course not,” he lied. She took a large swig before setting the glass down and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
    “You can try, Nick,” she said between mouthfuls of pizza, “but I’m still not going to sleep with you, no matter how much Rheingold I drink.”
    “Don’t worry,” he remarked drily. “It’s not sleep I have in mind.”
    ***
    To her credit, Julie managed to exit Geraldi’s without stumbling. Nicholas walked next to her, his hand hovering nearby, ready to support her at the first sign of swaying. But Julie seemed determined to prove her sobriety and independence, and she pulled it off too. Outside, Nicholas eyed his bike. Could Julie really stay on the back? Taking her by the chin, he tilted her face to meet his. Her dilated pupils made him skeptical.
    “Maybe I should have a car sent around,” he suggested. They’d shared three pitchers of beer, and all but two slices of a large pepperoni pizza. True to her word, Julie kept up with him. Yet, here she stood, zipping his jacket and rolling the sleeves, swaying only the tiniest bit in the cold night air.
    “Nope,” she insisted. “I’m fine.” He shook his head, marveling at her stamina for someone so small. They heard thunder, and Julie felt a drop of rain on her skin.
    “Nick,” she whispered, turning to him. “Listen. It’s the thunderstorm. Just as back then. You remember?” She came close to him, her eyes looking