Rescuing Her Seal(5)
She stepped aside, allowing him entrance to the hotel room before realizing that it was way too small for his presence. He dominated the space around him, bleeding charisma and general gorgeousness into the very atmosphere. She couldn’t stop looking at him or itching for her camera.
What had he called himself? Fitz? As in fits of temper?
That’s when she noticed the other guy sitting on the bed, his hand cupping Thora’s face as he feathered a thumb across her cheek. That must be We’re-Just-Friends Jack, though the look on his face as he evaluated Thora had not one iota of friendship in it.
They were murmuring to each other and basically ignoring the rest of the world. Thora hadn’t even glanced her way one time. Apparently the lack of makeup had ceased to be a factor.
“Maybe we should make ourselves scarce.” Fitz suggested from behind her, and goodness did that man’s voice do something to her insides.
Obviously, he’d picked up on the vibe too. She nodded her agreement, though what she might possibly say to him outside of gah or erg remained to be seen. But neither did she want to intrude on what appeared to be a scene involving a man extremely concerned about the health of a woman he cared about.
Also Thora must be blind if she’d never thought about We’re-Just-Friends Jack as something other than a buddy. You know, if you liked guys with broad shoulders and chiseled features who clearly thought you’d hung the moon.
The pool bar wasn’t but a few steps away. Lilah led her gorgeous shadow to the two empty seats near the end.
“So,” she said brightly as she eyed the extremely well-put-together brown-haired man on the next barstool. “You’re much better-looking than I was expecting.”
Yeah, that was a conversation opener all right. She needed a muzzle. Or something.
But he just laughed and signaled the bartender. “I like you already.”
Which honestly could have gone either way. “I’ve been called an acquired taste on more than one occasion.”
His hazel eyes cut to her, and he lost interest in the bartender. Something entirely not safe flashed through his expression, and she wished she had a whole lot more experience reading a man’s subtle cues. She had no idea what that look meant.
Maybe if he’d let her take a picture, she could pull it out later to examine it…
“I’m the kind of guy who likes to form his own opinion, especially when it comes to what a woman tastes like.”
Okay. That was not difficult to interpret at all. Unfamiliar heat gathered in places she’d only just realized hadn’t dried up and blown away like she’d thought. “I’m the kind of woman men don’t spend a lot of time tasting.”
Dear God, could she just shut up for a minute? Why couldn’t she be tongue-tied around a guy with striking cheekbones instead of blathering on like a drunk half-wit?
And now she’d completely piqued his interest. He swiveled his stool to face her and propped an elbow on the bar as he treated her to a long, slow once-over that she felt all the way to her toes. “That is the biggest travesty I think I’ve ever heard. Why not?”
“Um… because I don’t taste good?”
His laugh did not help matters in the brain function department. “Or because you surround yourself with morons. Since I’m not one, I’m more than happy to volunteer for a taste test.”
Prickly heat spread through her cheeks. And other places. She should quit while she was ahead. Behind. Sideways. The man had her so flipped around she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. “I literally don’t know how to respond to that.”
He cocked his head with a fair amount of heat emanating from his gaze. “Which is also a shame. But very intriguing.”
Sure. Boring Lilah Rose Houston had so many facets worthy of capturing this guy’s interest. “I’m the least intriguing person on the planet. I don’t even know how to spell complex.”
He grinned like he didn’t believe her. “That’s what makes you unique. I have a feeling that what I see is what I get with you. Let’s see how close I am. You don’t date much but not because you don’t want to. The men you meet are too low on the evolutionary chain. You need a more sophisticated kind of man. One who knows how to treat a woman. Yeah?”
Only off by about a million miles. She liked safe men who didn’t make her uncomfortable. Since she hadn’t met one yet, the lack of practice in holding a mere conversation showed.
“On the contrary,” she countered drily. “Men would have to notice me to ask me out. I’m invisible.”
“Not to me.”
They stared at each other for the longest time, and she got the distinct feeling that he valued straight shooting in a woman because it was one of his own qualities. He liked her. For really real. What was she supposed to do with that?