Intent to Seduce & A Glimpse of Fire(59)

Her head tilted slightly to the side, and listening intently, she sat facing him with one leg curled under her bottom. “And?”

He took a sip of his wine. “I’m in advertising. I drew up a simple and low-cost game plan to let people know about the place, designed some flyers and a reward sys tem for referrals. The usual. It was nothing.”

Her smile lit up her eyes. “You’re a very nice man, you know that?”

“I’m telling you it was no big deal. To tell you the truth, if I’d known he was going to act like this, I wouldn’t have done it.” He focused on his watch. “I can’t forget to call him.”

Uncomfortable with the conversation, he didn’t look up for a long time. She was making too big a thing out of this. What he’d done for Jimmy was remedial stuff he’d learned in college. It had been fun. Not like the work he did now, where the enormous pressure to please the client with his first pitch took all the pleasure out of his job.

“All right, we can change the subject,” she said, running the toe of her shoe up his calf and taking a sip of her wine, her gaze fastened on him over the rim.

He smiled, set his glass on the coffee table, and then took hers out of her hand. “Come here.”

Her lips curved, and she lifted her chin in challenge. “What do you want with me?”

“I’ll show you.” He wove a hand through her hair, cupping her scalp, and drew her toward him.

Just as their lips met, the phone rang. Eric ignored it but Dallas leaned back.

“Forget it,” he whispered. “I’m not expecting a call.” He tried to bring her back to him but she resisted.

“Could it be Jimmy? Does he have your number?”

“If it is, he can leave a message.”

“Eric…”

He sighed. The mood had obviously disintegrated so he got to his feet. Before he reached the phone, he heard Jimmy’s voice leaving a message on the answering machine. Eric muttered a word he shouldn’t have and then picked up the phone.

Dallas watched him pace as he spoke to Jimmy. Even though he was obviously frustrated, his tone never revealed his annoyance. After a brief conversation he hung up and returned to the couch.

He shook his head. “He’s delivering dinner.”

She laughed. “You have a fan. Get over it.”

“Remind me never to do any more good deeds.” Sighing, he checked his watch. “He’ll be here in ten minutes.” He trailed a knuckle along her jaw and then tipped her chin up, brushed his lips across hers. “Any suggestions on how we should use the time?”

“You have Scrabble?”

“Funny.”

“I—”

He didn’t let her finish but pressed his advantage, slipping his tongue through her parted lips. She sort of fell against him, as if he’d just sucked all the energy out of her. Even if she wanted to refuse him, she couldn’t muster the strength to pull away.

Not that she had any intention of retreating. The same musky masculine scent that had taunted her last night filled her every pore. His hand swept down her back, lingered at her waist, cupped the swell of her butt. His touch drugged her. Made her feel helpless. Made her want more.

“Take off your blouse,” he whispered as he worked his hand beneath the fabric, his warm palm pressed against her skin, his strong fingers trailing up the muscle on either side of her spine.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Jimmy?”

He smiled against her mouth. “You’re into threesomes?”

Laughing, she leaned back to glare at him. “You know what I mean.”

Eric chuckled and then fell back against the couch and groaned. “Damn that Jimmy.”

She placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed a little. “Poor baby.”

One of his eyebrows went up. “An inch higher and I’ll let Jimmy wait in the lobby all night.”

“And what about dinner?”

He looked horrified. “You mean we have to eat first?”

Dallas laughed. “First? Did you have something else in mind?”

His mouth curved in a predatory smile. He caught her arm before she could pull away. “I have lots of things in mind. Want to hear about them?”

She shivered and moistened her suddenly parched lips.

He drew her toward him, leaning forward at the same time. “Or would you rather I show you?”

A buzzing sound startled them.

Eric glanced apologetically at her. “Was that ten minutes? That was not ten minutes,” he muttered as he got up and went to the door.

On the right was a small silver panel. He depressed a black button and the doorman’s voice came through telling him he had a delivery. Eric spoke into the speaker and told him to let Jimmy come up.

Dallas checked her blouse, smoothed back her hair with a shaky hand and in general made sure there were no telltale signs of their fooling around. She didn’t expect Eric would allow Jimmy to stay long. Which would be a very good thing. Her insides hadn’t quit tingling. If Eric wanted to skip dinner and resume where they’d left off, that was more than okay with her.

He hovered near the door, with it slightly ajar, waiting for Jimmy. She thought she heard the elevator ding, and then Eric reached into his pocket and brought out some money, reminding her this was supposed to be her turn to buy dinner.

“Hey, I’m getting that,” she said and pushed off the couch, looking around for where she’d dropped her purse.

“Please, one argument at a time.”

“What?” She had no idea what he was talking about, and then Jimmy showed up at the door, carrying a bag of food big enough to feed five people.

She understood as soon as Eric tried to give him the money.

“No, my friend, this is a gift.” Jimmy grinned and tried to shove the bag into Eric’s arms.

“No way.” Eric stepped back, his arms rigidly at his sides. “Either I pay for this or you take it back.”

Jimmy shook his head, a hurt yet stubborn expression on his face.

Eric stuffed some bills in the man’s breast pocket. “Take it, okay, Jimmy? Please.” Then Eric took the bag from him, cradled it in his left arm and extended his right hand to Jimmy. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Jimmy smiled and stepped back. “Okay,” he said and left.

Tom had told her Eric was a rising star with Webber and Thornton Advertising. At the time she’d thought it might be an exaggeration to peak her interest, a ploy to get her to the company party. But she’d heard enough from the other guests Saturday night to make her a believer.

She leaned a hip against the counter beside him. “Mmm, smells divine.”

He took a couple of white cartons out of the bag and read the black writing on the side. He set them aside and brought out three more cartons.

“Good grief. That’s a lot of food. Enough for a party.” She stared at the spread.

“Is that so?”

“Come on now. I offered to share my raw fish with you last night.”

He winced. “Thank you very much for the reminder.”

Grinning, she opened the carton of pot stickers. The tantalizing aroma made her stomach rumble. “These smell way too good. Is there dipping sauce?”

“I’m sure there is. Not that it matters.”

At the odd tone in his voice, she looked over at him. “Excuse me?”

He took the carton out of her hand and set it aside. With a sweep of one arm he cleared the counter, sending the cartons of food up against the microwave. “I believe we have some unfinished business,” he said, grasping her by the waist and lifting her onto the counter.





CHAPTER EIGHT




SHE COULD BARELY CATCH HER BREATH. Her heart threatened to explode. He’d taken her by surprise. “Hey, you, I’m wearing white. If I get anything on these pants—”

He smiled and kissed the side of her mouth. “You could always take them off.”

She let her head fall back and he kissed her throat, continued on to her collarbone, licking the skin just above her neckline. He spread her legs and stepped closer until he was cradled between her thighs. He cupped her bottom and pulled her against him.

She sighed when he put his mouth on her breast, teasing the nipple with his teeth through the fabric. Automatically she tried to squeeze her thighs together, but he was right there, inches away from her core, where the dampness had started.

Clutching two fistfuls of his shirt, she yanked the hem out of his jeans and pushed it up as far as the shirt would go until he gave in and stepped back so she could finish the job. She tossed the T-shirt toward the couch and it landed on the arm.

He grinned. “Nice throw.”

“Nice chest.” She slid her palms from his shoulders over his nipples and down his belly, feeling it clench as she rested at his waistband. “You’re a runner, aren’t you?”

“I used to log five miles a day. Lately I only get out about three times a week.”

She ran her palms back up, and as she grazed his nipples, he briefly closed his eyes. He didn’t have a bulky, heavily muscled weight lifter’s body. Simply lean and well defined with a light mat of hair—just the way she liked a man’s body to look and feel.

“I know. Getting soft. I probably need to join a gym.” He picked up a few strands of her hair and rubbed it between his forefinger and thumb. “It’s like silk. I’ve never felt hair this soft and fine before.”