Sydney still couldn’t shake her thoughts of him. Everything from his tantalizing scent to his sexy smile to his charismatic nature burrowed into her brain. The way he kissed her. The way he handled her. She couldn’t help but fantasize how he’d be if things ever went any further. His warm, brown skin on hers, caressing and stroking her naked body while bestowing his skillful tongue over every inch of her, sent a shiver of raw pleasure through her veins.
“This can’t be happening,” she screamed out loud. “I’m not sitting here thinking about that arrogant, conceited man.”
But he’d been none of those things when he’d held her hand tightly in the hospital or when he’d cooked her dinner and made sure nothing happened to her while she slept. The man she knew from the courtroom wasn’t the man who took care of her. Who had called her twice to check on her, and gave her roses that were blooming so beautifully and filling her living room with a sweet fragrance.
Sydney glanced at her cell phone again. “Okay. I’m only calling to ask for some information. Not a date.”
* * *
Bryce strolled confidently out of the meeting with his real-estate broker in the Equitable Building in the downtown Atlanta area. He’d found the perfect location for his law offices in midtown Atlanta and would close in less than a month. Turning the corner on Peachtree Street, he decided to grab some dessert at Café Intermezzo before heading back to his home in Buckhead.
The vibration of his cell phone interrupted his perusal of the menu. The phone had rung all day with business calls, and he really wanted to turn if off, but he needed to get things squared away before he left for Vegas on Wednesday afternoon. A surprised grin etched across his face at the picture of the sleeping beauty that was displayed on his screen. He’d snapped it on a whim and had found himself staring at it every now and then for the past few days. Now seeing it flash on his screen had him curious as to why she was actually calling him.
“Hey, Syd. Everything okay?” He sipped his café au lait and closed the menu, deciding upon a tiramisu cheesecake.
“Everything is fine. I just had a quick question if you aren’t busy...”
“Go ahead.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m all ears.”
“I just wanted to know the name of the motorcycle fest you mentioned in Vegas. I’m thinking about going if it’s not too late, but I can’t find it online.”
“No, it’s not too late.” The waitress came back and he opened the menu, pointing to the cheesecake. “I’ll text you the information in a moment. It’s hosted by a private motorcycle club I belong to for professionals. That’s probably why you can’t find it. I’ll add your name to my guest list and send you the access number you’ll need to register.” He grabbed his iPad from his briefcase to place her name on his friends and family list.
“Oh, wow. Thank you so much.”
“No problem. So you’re taking some time off after all?”
“I don’t have a choice. My boss gave me a month’s leave of absence. It’s my built-up vacation time.”
“You have that much vacation leave that you haven’t taken? It’s definitely time for one then. That’s what your body has been trying to tell you.”
“Well, apparently, everyone but me realized it. I’ll check out the fest and decide if that’s somewhere I want to go. I’m looking at a few other places, as well.”
He rapidly tapped his finger on the table as his brain worked in overtime. “How about you ride with me? My trailer holds two motorcycles. I’m leaving Wednesday around two in the afternoon. I could use another driver.”
“Oh...no. I’ll probably fly. I may not even go. I’m just looking at all options.”
“Well, let me know if you decide to go. Maybe we can hang out since we’re semi–getting along now.”
“Um...I’m sure if I go we’ll run into each other.”
“Yeah...or you can call me,” he suggested in a low, sexy voice.
She laughed nervously. “Um...I gotta go...wash this conditioner out of my hair, but please text me the information.”
He chuckled silently. He hadn’t heard that excuse from a woman in ages.
“Will do, Syd.”
* * *
“What kind of excuse was that?” Sydney asked herself out loud. “Wash the conditioner out of my hair?” However, the lazy, seductiveness in his voice when he’d said, “Or you can call me,” surely had an underlying message. The profiler in her heard it. She even imagined him saying it through his inviting lips that had probably curled into a jaw-dropping, arrogant smirk. If it had been in person, he would’ve stepped into her personal space and winked. Maybe even licked his lips and pulled her hard against him as he had in the hospital, gripping her hips or maybe her butt this time.
Argh! Why can’t I get this man out of my head?
Sydney took a deep breath and opened the website for the festival. While it wasn’t too late to attend, the late registration fee was five hundred dollars. The airplane ticket was way too much, so she decided she would have to drive. That way she could hitch up her motorcycle trailer to the back of her Mustang. She’d done it before. No big deal. Sure, it would be a two-day drive, but, heck, she had a month off. What else was she doing? And if she ran into Bryce, so what? She was a tough cookie. She’d dealt with the most wanted criminals for the past five years saying all types of sexist things to her or wagging their tongues at her, among other rude gestures. A few even had the audacity to touch her and had ended up with a broken finger or five. She could handle being around Bryce Monroe.
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