Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 2(207)
“When?”
“Tonight? Now?”
“Oh, I...” Have plans. But what the hell? “I think that’ll be okay. But I need to make a call first.”
“Sure. You can do that while we’re driving.” He reached around me, pushing my car door closed. My nerves buzzed at his nearness. Wow, was there some serious chemistry there.
I hit the button on my key fob, locking the doors and followed him to his car. Nice car. Black. Sleek. BMW. And it smelled really nice inside. Like leather and expensive cologne and man. He got the engine purring while I buckled in. And within moments, we were backing out of the parking spot.
“I hope you enjoy the house,” I said as I fished in my purse for my phone. “It really is a wonderful old building. With some TLC, it could be spectacular.”
“I have big plans for the place.” He smiled as he steered the car through the parking lot. “I hope you’ll come see it when the renovations are finished.” At the driveway, he hit his turn signal, waiting for a break in traffic.
“I’d love to. I’m just glad the house has gone to someone who could see its full potential.”
“That’s one thing I’ve always been good at--seeing the full potential of things...and people.” He turned his attention to me. “But in your case, I vastly underestimated you. I knew you’d grow up to be a beautiful woman. But I had no idea you’d be so stunning.”
My cheeks warmed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Turning his focus back on the road, Shane hit the gas and we zoomed out onto the clogged street.
“You know--this is embarrassing, and I don’t know why I’m telling you, but what the hell?--I had a crush on you when I was a kid.”
His grin was charming and genuine. “Really?”
“Really.”
“But I was an old man.”
“Older but not old. And charming. And nice. And you talked to me like I was an adult.”
We pulled up to a light, and he glanced at me. “You were always mature for your age.”
“Being the only child of my mother, it would be impossible for me to be otherwise.”
He chuckled. The light turned green, and once again, we were humming along, zigging and zagging through traffic. “I could see that. The truth was, I respected you.”
“Respected?” A twelve year old? That surprised me.
“And now that we’ve reconnected, I respect you even more.” He turned the car into a parking lot. Maggiano’s. I’d eaten there before. “Is this okay?”
“Absolutely.”
He parked and we headed inside. We shared a plate of spinach dip and drank wine and exchanged compliments. He told me about the wife he’d lost while he’d been living in Spain (Spain!), and the children he’d never had. The joys of his life and regrets. And I told him about losing Mom, finishing school, and the bumpy start to my career. The chemistry kept building and building with each minute we spent together. By the time our stomachs were full and our wine glasses empty, I was hoping I’d get a kiss, a real one with hands grasping and tongues twining.
Shane Trant was a hundred times more the man than my juvenile mind could have comprehended. He was intelligent, successful, charming. And he emanated a certain male power, charisma, confidence. I was mesmerized. And a little nervous, too.
At the end of the meal, he paid the bill then led me back to the car, placing a hand on the small of my back. That touch was so distracting I almost went the wrong way when we stepped outside. In fact, I started walking around the wrong side of the building, and he grabbed my shoulders to stop me and turned me back around, facing him.
My gaze jerked up, to his face.
He was looking down at me, eyes glimmering.
“The dinner was delicious, thank you,” I said, staring at his mouth. Could it be any more perfect? Kiss me, please. Kiss me now.
He licked his lips. His head tipped. A muscle on his jaw clenched. “You are something else.”
“Tell me more. I never tire of compliments.”
His laughter seemed to vibrate through my whole body. One of his hands cupped my cheek. I flattened my hand on his and held my breath. The moment was magical, and I wanted it to last a lifetime. Erotic energy was arcing through the still night air, leaping from his big, hard body to mine, zinging along my nerves, igniting little blazes everywhere.
But then he said, “I think I’d better take you back to your car now.”
You could kiss me first. “I’m in no hurry to go home.”
“Hmmmm.” The hand that was holding my cheek wandered south a little, fingers curling around my neck. It was a strange way to hold me, a strange place. But it excited me, thrilled me. “You don’t know me. Maybe it’s better you keep it that way.”