Page 10 of A Touch of Crimson
Looking up, she met his gaze and smiled. She didn’t explain her preoccupation with his sandaled feet. It didn’t seem necessary, considering the way he was looking at her. The sexual attraction was a given. It was hot and edgy and made her body go a little haywire, but there was something softer in his regard, too. Something tender, almost intimate. She responded to it with fierce propriety. A primitive part of her was growling, He’s mine.
“You’re not eating your pretzel,” he noted, with that low sonorous articulation that made her want to settle in and stay a while.
He was so stringently contained, rigidly controlled. Even when she sensed turmoil in him, he gave no outward indication of it. His voice was always smooth and even, his posture relaxed and confident. Even when he’d been pacing, he had done so leisurely. The combination of that tight leash and his unrestrained sexuality was a potent turn-on.
It was her nature to make waves and stir things up, and she was going to do that with him. She was going to dig beneath that calm surface, because she was pretty damn certain still waters ran deep in him.
“Do you want it?” she offered. “I don’t want to ruin my appetite.”
His eyes sparkled with amusement, and she realized he had yet to smile fully. Her life was dark enough as it was; she usually went for guys who were lighthearted and fun-loving. It was a testament to his appeal that his subdued intensity didn’t dampen her interest.
“What would you like for dinner?” he asked.
“Anything. I’m easy.” The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. “That came out wrong.”
“Don’t ever worry about what you say around me, as long as you’re honest.”
“Honesty is my policy, which gets me in trouble a lot.”
“Some trouble is worth getting into.”
She twisted within her slackened seat belt, canting her torso toward him. “What kind of trouble do you get into?”
“The epic kind,” he said wryly.
The faint touch of humor hit all her hot buttons. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”
“That’s third-date material. You’ll have to stick around.”
What would it be like to keep a man like Adrian? Just for a little while… “That’s extortion.”
He looked completely unrepentant. “I’m ruthless about getting what I want, which leads me back to the topic of what to cook for dinner. What’s your guilty pleasure?”
“You’re cooking?”
“Unless you object.”
Her mouth curved. Adrian was clearly used to getting his way with no questions asked. “I should probably deny you at some point, just to keep you in your place.”
His gaze smoldered. “And where would that be? The place where you’d like to put me.”
“The place where I set the pace.”
“I like it already.”
“Good.” Lindsay gave an approving nod. He was becoming more approachable by the minute. More real. “As for dinner at your place, I’m okay with that. But I want you to decide what’s on the menu. Impress me.”
“No allergies? Nothing off-limits?”
“I’m not a fan of liver, bugs, or meat that’s still bleeding.” Her nose wrinkled. “Aside from that, you’ve got carte blanche.”
Her stipulations elicited his first real smile. “I’m not a fan of blood either.”
The sensual curving of his lips caused heat to spread outward from her tummy, pushing languidness through her limbs even as it gave her a potent headrush. She felt flushed and totally smitten.
It figured that the one guy to set her off like a rocket was also one who obviously had a lot more to him than met the eye.
As if what met the eye wasn’t enough…
