“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his stomach. “I’m afraid to find out.”
With a lighthearted chuckle, she held her glass out to his. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against hers and then taking a drink. He was relieved to see her relaxed and smiling again and he wanted her to stay that way. So as much as his curiosity was gnawing at him, there was no way he would bring up the subject of her ex-husband again tonight. Besides being an obvious buzz kill, the guy sounded like a real jackass.
Okay, so the evening hadn’t started out exactly as he’d planned, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t end up exactly where he wanted it to.
With Maggie in his bed.
Five
The dinner was fabulous, as Connor knew it would be. The steak was cooked to perfection, the chocolate mousse was drool-worthy and their conversation was relaxed with plenty of laughs and easy smiles. Connor had kept the champagne flowing and had consciously avoided any talk of ex-husbands and old betrayals.
Sated, he sat back in his chair and watched Maggie as she savored the last luscious spoonful of chocolate mousse. He’d enjoyed the dinner, too, but had found himself getting much more pleasure from observing her delight than from his own meal. Maybe too much pleasure, if the relentless surge of physical need that had grabbed hold of him was any measure to go by.
But what could he do about it? He was mesmerized by her luxuriant tumble of reddish-brown hair that floated over her shoulders and down her back. And her face, so delicately shaped and porcelain smooth, begged to be touched. Her lips were soft, full and voluptuous, and Connor’s fervent desire to taste them again was driving him dangerously close to the edge.
He cursed inwardly. His famous self-control was slipping. He had to find a way to pull the reins in on his rampant libido. But how could he look away while Maggie still licked and nibbled at her spoon, lost in her own little world of chocolate mousse goodness, for God’s sake?
She was killing him. He wouldn’t survive another meal. Not until he’d had her in his bed.
Soon, he promised himself. Very soon. For now, he forced himself to stop watching her pink tongue darting and nipping at the spoon. Instead he glanced up and tried to appreciate the elegant and somber artwork on the wall while he shifted unobtrusively in his chair, carefully adjusting himself so she wouldn’t notice the rather prominent bulge in his pants.
When he finally could speak in coherent syllables, he said, “So, I take it you enjoyed dinner?”
“Oh yes,” Maggie murmured as she set down her spoon. “Delicious. Thank you, Connor.”
“My pleasure.” Connor was just glad she’d put down that damn spoon. One more lick and he would’ve been a dead man.
She lifted her teacup and took a sip, then set it down and smiled at him. “This has been so nice.”
Nice? he thought. He was barely grasping hold of the edge of madness and she was having a tea party.
He needed to get a grip.
“Why don’t we move over to the sofa?” he suggested, standing and reaching for her chair. “We can talk some more and you can finish your tea.”