Oddly, even though he was angry with her and she didn’t understand why, she felt comforted by his touch on her upper arm and his evident concern. Then, too, he couldn’t hide his rigid shaft.
She repressed a smile of feminine satisfaction. He could have been outside the diner for only one reason—to keep an eye on her because he was in a bad way. She heaved a deep sigh. She was so aroused when he was nearby, never mind when his skin contacted hers, that it almost made her delirious with need. What could a powerfully built, well-muscled, extremely virile man do to her in bed? Was she willing to find out?
Charles wasn’t speaking to her. His shaded gaze scrutinized everything but studiously avoided her. Not that she was staring at him, but she could tell from which way his head was turned. They stopped at the light, waiting for it to turn green.
On impulse, she reached up and slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. Thunderous gray eyes met her inquiring gaze. Boldly, in words she’d never spoken to another man before, she asked, “You want me, don’t you?”
His lips turned down in a heavy grimace, and he inched the glasses up to cover his eyes. But not before she saw the intensity in his gaze, which confirmed her suspicion. He wanted sex with her.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said, perhaps a tad too brightly. “I’ll pick you up at your place tonight.”
The light turned green. His fingers dug deeper into her upper arm with a pressure she couldn’t ward off, and he stepped off the curb. Helplessly, thinking she was a fool for even considering he might want sex with her, she followed. He moved quickly, with an agility she found hard to believe of a powerful male.
It wasn’t until they’d stepped onto the opposite curb that he responded. He paused and canted his head her way. “I’m supposed to pick you up.”
She noted the anger had died away, replaced by an almost lightheartedness.
“I don’t buy into the patriarchal society theory where men do everything.” She ran her free hand through the hair above her ear. “Women can do anything they want, when they want.”
That saying was rapidly becoming her mantra, besides which, if he picked her up, he might discover who she really was—a runaway from wealth and prestige and the type of lifestyle to which he subscribed. She could not allow herself to return to her father and the strict guard under which he’d place her.
Several pedestrians skirted them, throwing discreet glances their way. It never paid to be snoopy in L.A. Gang members could easily shoot one down for looking the wrong way at them.
Charles nodded. His mouth moved as if he were about to say something. She had to forestall any argument.
“It’s all or nothing,” she said, countering his silence. She would not allow him to push her around. She was the mistress of her life, and any man she invited had to follow her rules. She moistened her lips. With Charles Vernon, she could be a savage, unpretentious woman in and out of bed. She would never again allow a man to treat her like a delicate wallflower.
He grimaced, but his lips parted without sound. His shirt molded to his awesome biceps and his flat stomach. Sunlight threaded through his short hair, and she swore she saw a hint of blue in those strands. What would running her fingers through the silky strands feel like? Sensuous, drawing her closer to him as he spun a delicious web of erotic pleasure?
“In other words, a business deal.” He spoke the words in a flat monotone, but he couldn’t hide the excitement her statement had triggered.
Roxie shrugged. Who cared what he called her proposition. “If that’s what you want to call it. Are you in?” She no longer needed to play hardball, but she liked this new side of herself she’d never before experienced.
The small, tight smile he gave her made her shiver. The skin on her arms prickled with anticipation.
The intersection light had changed from green to
She repressed a smile of feminine satisfaction. He could have been outside the diner for only one reason—to keep an eye on her because he was in a bad way. She heaved a deep sigh. She was so aroused when he was nearby, never mind when his skin contacted hers, that it almost made her delirious with need. What could a powerfully built, well-muscled, extremely virile man do to her in bed? Was she willing to find out?
Charles wasn’t speaking to her. His shaded gaze scrutinized everything but studiously avoided her. Not that she was staring at him, but she could tell from which way his head was turned. They stopped at the light, waiting for it to turn green.
On impulse, she reached up and slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. Thunderous gray eyes met her inquiring gaze. Boldly, in words she’d never spoken to another man before, she asked, “You want me, don’t you?”
His lips turned down in a heavy grimace, and he inched the glasses up to cover his eyes. But not before she saw the intensity in his gaze, which confirmed her suspicion. He wanted sex with her.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said, perhaps a tad too brightly. “I’ll pick you up at your place tonight.”
The light turned green. His fingers dug deeper into her upper arm with a pressure she couldn’t ward off, and he stepped off the curb. Helplessly, thinking she was a fool for even considering he might want sex with her, she followed. He moved quickly, with an agility she found hard to believe of a powerful male.
It wasn’t until they’d stepped onto the opposite curb that he responded. He paused and canted his head her way. “I’m supposed to pick you up.”
She noted the anger had died away, replaced by an almost lightheartedness.
“I don’t buy into the patriarchal society theory where men do everything.” She ran her free hand through the hair above her ear. “Women can do anything they want, when they want.”
That saying was rapidly becoming her mantra, besides which, if he picked her up, he might discover who she really was—a runaway from wealth and prestige and the type of lifestyle to which he subscribed. She could not allow herself to return to her father and the strict guard under which he’d place her.
Several pedestrians skirted them, throwing discreet glances their way. It never paid to be snoopy in L.A. Gang members could easily shoot one down for looking the wrong way at them.
Charles nodded. His mouth moved as if he were about to say something. She had to forestall any argument.
“It’s all or nothing,” she said, countering his silence. She would not allow him to push her around. She was the mistress of her life, and any man she invited had to follow her rules. She moistened her lips. With Charles Vernon, she could be a savage, unpretentious woman in and out of bed. She would never again allow a man to treat her like a delicate wallflower.
He grimaced, but his lips parted without sound. His shirt molded to his awesome biceps and his flat stomach. Sunlight threaded through his short hair, and she swore she saw a hint of blue in those strands. What would running her fingers through the silky strands feel like? Sensuous, drawing her closer to him as he spun a delicious web of erotic pleasure?
“In other words, a business deal.” He spoke the words in a flat monotone, but he couldn’t hide the excitement her statement had triggered.
Roxie shrugged. Who cared what he called her proposition. “If that’s what you want to call it. Are you in?” She no longer needed to play hardball, but she liked this new side of herself she’d never before experienced.
The small, tight smile he gave her made her shiver. The skin on her arms prickled with anticipation.
The intersection light had changed from green to
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