“I’m good with that.” His gaze roved over her and it made her feel hot, like there was a fire burning inside her. “But I need to call you something. Maybe Snow White.”
A startled laugh escaped her. “Snow White? That’s kind of cheesy.”
Again, he didn’t smile, but something flickered in his blue eyes, something that might have been amusement. “Why not? Black hair. White skin. Red mouth. You’re Snow White all right.”
“So what does that make you? You don’t look like Prince Charming to me.” Because Prince Charming was a good boy and this man definitely wasn’t. That fire in his blue eyes, that arrogance, that hard voice—those kinds of things only belonged to the bad boys.
His long mouth curved in a smile that made her heart stop altogether. “Oh, I’m not Prince Charming, baby. I’m the Huntsman.”
Chapter 2
Her pupils dilated, making her eyes even darker. “The Huntsman, huh? You do know that means you have to take pity on me and let me go, right?”
She wasn’t scared. He could see that immediately and he knew how to spot fear. He’d learned to recognize it in the boardrooms he’d virtually grown up in, as he learned the business from his father.
“Let you go? I could do that.” He raised a finger to the bartender. “Or I could buy you a drink and let you decide what you want to do.”
Her dark gaze flickered, as in surprise. “Really? You sure you’re not Prince Charming?”
“Oh, I’m almost positive.” Charm was Donovan’s area of expertise, not his. He’d never needed it anyway since power and money did the job for him when it came to women. Not that he generally picked women up in bars. Or at all, in fact.
His approach to women was the same as his approach to business—cool and logical, emotions kept right out of it. If he did happen to want sex then he preferred to meet appropriate women at appropriate gatherings. Wine them and dine them. And if compatible, indulge in a satisfying sexual affair usually lasting no more than a month.
It was easier that way, less chance of anything messy and emotional happening. Having had a front-row seat to the fallout of his father’s affairs in the form of a half-brother his own mother had hated on sight, he’d witnessed firsthand how destructive love and passion could be. It wasn’t anything he wanted for himself.
So what are you doing lusting after this woman?
He didn’t quite know since he’d never lusted particularly strongly after any woman before. But perhaps the whiskey had shaken loose something inside him because the thought of letting this woman leave was unthinkable.
Leaning forward, he snagged a bar stool and dragged it over. “Sit down, Snow. I’m not going to cut out your heart yet.”
“You have no idea how reassuring that sounds.” There was a sarcastic edge to her tone but she sat down nevertheless, clutching a little red sequined purse in long white fingers.
“You’re not scared,” he said.
“No,” she admitted frankly. “But then being nervous isn’t the same as being afraid.”
“This is true.” The bartender approached and Jax raised an eyebrow at the woman sitting beside him. “What would you like to drink? A green apple martini too cheesy for you?”
“Oh, just a bit.” Her gaze rested on the whiskey tumbler near his elbow. “I’ll have one of those if you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind? I like a woman who appreciates a good scotch. Another please, Tony.”
“Actually, I don’t much care what it is as long as it’s extremely alcoholic.”
“Nerves again?”
“You could say that.”
He studied her, taking in the way the light fell on the red silk of her dress. How the material pulled tight over her breasts and hugged the slim width of her hips, highlighting her subtle curves. The dress had an asymmetric hem with a split that left bare one thigh almost to her hip. A sophisticated, seriously sexy dress. Much like her in fact.
Desire gripped him, making him aware of how long it had been since he’d taken a woman to bed. Since that damn journalist’s exposé had hit the headlines and Morrow’s past paraded in front of a gossip hungry world, he hadn’t had the time for any pleasant distractions. All his energy had gone into making sure his hold on the company was absolute and limiting the damage. He certainly wouldn’t ever have considered a bar pickup.
But tonight was different. Tonight she was here.
Maybe the intensity of the chemistry between them should have disturbed him but it had been a long time since he’d done anything purely for himself. And hell, after the hours he’d clocked up putting out fires and calming investors, he deserved a little R&R surely?