And what was that about, anyway? He wasn’t a teenager with raging hormones. Or a young man who’d thought he was marrying a princess who turned out to be a witch—a promiscuous one to boot. He’d certainly enjoyed more than enough sex before and after his marriage, yet no woman ever reached deep inside him the way Julia Patterson did just by…being.
She was nervous, and he didn’t know if it was him or the situation. He wanted her to relax and be at ease, so he could see if this…thing…sizzling between them sparked to life or was nothing more than a hopeful figment of his imagination.
He could tell as much about her from what she omitted as from what she told him. Why no comments about her husband? No enthusiastic description of her marriage? What sort of man claimed Julia Patterson as his wife, but lived with her in a relationship devoid of detail? He saw a woman of great warmth, personal charm, and unbelievable sexual attraction. The man must be a eunuch or a cheat.
His own marriage had been less than desirable, followed by a bitter divorce. The resentment of it all still clung to him and he wished he’d found Julia before someone else had. And before his own life had disintegrated so badly.
* * * *
“You’re staring,” she told him. “Is my makeup smeared?”
“Your makeup is fine. You’re fine.” He smiled. “I enjoy looking at you, listening to you. I love the sound of your voice.”
She laughed a nervous sound. The longer they sat in the booth, the more overpowering his presence. Could they simply stay here forever? “You must have pretty empty conversations if mine excites you.”
“Not at all. By the way, your proposal is excellent. I asked someone to bring me their copy during lunch so I could study it before the afternoon session.”
“So you’ve already seen it?” She was surprised. She’d expected to wait the usual week or so before it made its way to the decision-maker.
He nodded. “If the numbers add up the way they look like they should, we definitely have a deal.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “Shall we have another drink to seal the agreement?”
Julia nodded, the almond liqueur soothing her nerves and melting her tension. Luke leaned forward, talking to her in a low, deep voice. She couldn’t draw herself away from his eyes, so mesmerizing they locked her in place. Vaguely, she heard soft music somewhere and turned her head.
“They bring in a little duo in the evening.” He motioned to the postage stamp dance floor. “What about it?” At her hesitation, he added, “It’s nothing more than a dance, Julia. Between colleagues.”
A dance. Right.
A shiver skittered over her spine.
What was she doing here? Losing her mind?
Proper, obedient Julia was going to color outside the lines. But she was tempted by the possibility of forbidden pleasure. Of something she’d barely dreamt about. Unknown sensuality she’d heard her friends talk about and silently longed for.
Wordlessly, almost as if her body was on automatic pilot, she slid from the booth and put her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers with a gentle assurance that sent a surge of warmth through her. Despite what he said, she sensed he knew as well as she did things weren’t quite as simple as a dance. On the tiny floor, he drew her against him and their bodies fit as if poured from matching molds. They moved in a slow rhythm, his strong arm encircling her, his warm hand holding hers in close to his chest.
She inhaled the scent of him, spicy and musky, mixed with an incredible male essence. Dangerous. The word came back to her again.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew what was happening here. Forget more drinks. Forget dinner. She should break away and go to bed. Alone. But she knew she’d already made a choice, and her body began to tingle in anticipation. This was the most daring thing she’d ever done, and she felt powerless to stop herself.
They barely moved from the one spot on the dance floor as the music flowed around them, thighs pressed to thighs, the heat of his body melting into hers. The flexing of the muscles in those thighs as they moved to their own rhythm made hers quiver. Her breasts, pressed against the hard planes of his chest, felt suddenly full and heavy. She wanted to purr and rub herself all over him like a cat. When the song ended and he led her back to the table, she had to blink her eyes to remember where she was.
“You dance well.”
“Oh!” The compliment startled her. “Thank you. You make it easy.”
His voice melted her. There was a richness to it, like fresh coffee or warm chocolate pouring over her, through her, and around her. She thought she could listen to him talk forever.
When the waiter brought fresh drinks, he smiled at her and they clinked glasses.
Julia lost track of time as they sat in the lounge, sipped drinks, and danced again. They chatted about everything and nothing at all. Luke’s natural warmth and charm continued to put her at ease, but sexual tension so intense it was almost palpable electrified the air between them. As inexperienced as she was, Julia still knew she’d have to be dead not to feel it. And wasn’t that pathetic; a thirty-year-old woman whose sexual experience wouldn’t fill two pages in a book.
At some point, Luke took off his jacket and stuffed his tie in the pocket. Each time he led her to the dance floor, their bodies clung closer together. His arms held her with confidence and assurance, almost possession. Without the extra layer of the jacket between them, she could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. The fine cotton was like a silk caress against her cheek, and thin enough she could feel the hard buds of his nipples. When he moved his head, she could feel the tickle of his breath in her ear and shivered at the tiny fingers of sensation it brought.
His cock pressed against the softness of her through the fabric of his slacks. Her body responded with an unfamiliar intensity, tiny nerves sparking everywhere, the feel of his arousal electrifying her. Her breasts ached with the need to be touched, and her panties were so wet she was sure he could smell her scent. So this was what it was like. This was what other people reveled in and she’d never tasted. She was sure if she went to bed with him, she’d die of pleasure.
If she went to bed with him? Wasn’t it already, in her mind, a foregone conclusion?
“I can feel every one of your muscles move against me.” His voice was a low hum in her ear. “You have such a graceful body. Soft and warm.”
Warm was an understatement. Overheated might be more accurate.
“Do I offend you with my comments?” he asked, his hands tightening on her almost imperceptibly.
“No.” She could hardly get the word out. “No, you don’t.”
“Good. Because I like telling you. Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked as they shifted their feet almost in place in a corner of the floor.
His words were soft in her ear, a whisper tickling her skin, sending delicious shivers through her.
“Thank you,” was the only thing she could think of to say, feeling like a tongue-tied idiot.
“I can feel your heart beating hard against mine,” he told her. “Are you nervous?”
“Mmm, I’d say a little…unsure?” She was definitely swimming out of her depth here. “Am I making sense?”
“We don’t have to dance any more if you don’t want to.”
It was way more than dancing. She was sure they both knew it.
The heat of his breath at her ear sent a shiver racing through her. She knew he was slowly seducing her, letting her fall into it in slow increments, giving