Drive Me Wild. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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СКАЧАТЬ sauerkraut and corned beef, isn’t there?”

      “I’ve always liked it.”

      “And if they bring it immediately after they fix it, and it’s still warm, with the cheese melted…mmm, yummy.”

      “Uh-huh.” He had the definite impression this discussion was about something besides food. His groin was registering sexual overtones. Major sexual overtones. Molly had flirted with him before, but it had been more on the order of Sex Lite, not really intended to go anywhere. This time she seemed to have a definite destination in mind, and he was getting hotter by the second.

      “Alec?”

      He cleared his throat. “What?”

      “I’ll bet Red Carpet has a policy against dating clients.”

      His heart started beating faster. “It does. But if you’re worried about this lunch, I don’t think that counts. I mean, you have to eat.” He’d pretend to misunderstand where the conversation was leading, to see if she was serious or messing with his head.

      “I wasn’t really worried about this lunch. We’re in New York, not Old Saybrook. No one will see us having lunch, whether your company would frown on it or not.”

      “I guess that’s true.”

      “So, let’s say you decided to take a chance, decided for a little while to ignore your company’s policy. Let’s say your client promised never to say anything to anyone.” She paused to gaze at him.

      If he hadn’t noticed the slight tremor of her hand as she reached for her water glass, he would have thought she was cool as can be. He wasn’t, though. He was breaking out in a sweat. “Okay, let’s say that.”

      She sloshed a little water over the rim of the glass as she set it unsteadily back on the tablecloth. Her eyelashes fluttered, and then she looked straight at him. “I don’t want you to lose your job on account of me.”

      “You let me worry about that.” He no longer gave a damn about the job. Five minutes ago he’d thought it was very important, but five minutes ago Molly hadn’t been across the table, color high, hinting that she wanted something more from him than chauffeur service.

      “It’s just that I find you very attractive,” she said.

      “Ditto.” That was suave. He tried again. “I find you very attractive, too.”

      “But there are so many problems.”

      “I know.” He couldn’t think of a single one, but he knew they were out there, temporarily obliterated by a firestorm of lust.

      “I don’t really have time for dating.” She gripped the slick water glass in both hands and brought it to her mouth for a single swallow.

      So she hadn’t been going out, after all. Nice to know. “Why not?”

      “I’m trying to move ahead in my career.”

      Making X-rated movies? But he didn’t ask. “I don’t really have time to date, either.” He said it automatically, but now he realized that he’d make the time—for her.

      “That’s what I thought. And then there’s the situation with me being a client for the car service.”

      “True.” And maybe he’d been crazy to let that stand in his way for six months. Was he a man or a wuss?

      She turned the water glass around and around in her hands while she stared at the ice bobbing inside. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.”

      “So have I.” Which answered the question of whether he was a man or a wuss. He’d thought about her during the day, dreamed about her at night, and hadn’t made a single move. Pathetic.

      But most of their time together had been side by side, riding in the Town Car. This was the longest he’d ever sat across from her, able to really look at her. She was a treat, all red-gold curls and creamy skin.

      He’d never noticed her hands before, but he noticed them now as she continued to fondle her water glass. She kept her nails short and free of polish. Movie stars, any kind of movie star, had long nails. But she could put on the fake ones during shooting. He was fascinated by the way she was stroking that dripping glass. Then she clutched it in two hands again and took another sip. God, he was getting hard.

      She took a long, shaky breath. “Okay, so we’re both interested.”

      “Definitely.”

      “And fate has caused us to end up in the city together today.”

      “Yes.” Fate in the form of George and Alma Federman, whose flat tire had made him late. They’d insisted on inviting him over for dinner some night this week, but he should be the one taking them out, from the look of things.

      “So, um, I was thinking…”

      His heart thudded like a pile driver. “Yes?”

      “Well, considering everything—” She stopped and glanced up as the waiter appeared with their food.

      Alec wasn’t hungry anymore. He wanted her to keep talking. The waiter seemed to take forever setting down the plates, asking if they needed anything, getting ketchup for the fries that had come with his Reuben.

      Finally they were alone again. “You were saying?” Alec prompted.

      “I think we should eat.” She picked up her fork, but her hand was still trembling.

      “Is this the date? Lunch?”

      “Eat your Reuben.”

      “I mean, we could take a walk through Central Park, or something like that.” Then he worried that he sounded cheap. Unfortunately he didn’t have much cash on him, and his credit card didn’t have a whole lot of room on it, either.

      “Before we decide what we’re going to do, we should eat our food.” She speared some chicken and lettuce with her fork.

      “Okay.” He dutifully took a bite of his Reuben. He’d never realized before how juicy a Reuben was. It dripped on his fingers and he ended up licking them. Then he glanced up and found her watching him, her lips parted, her breathing uneven.

      “Is it good?” she asked.

      “Yes.” Oh, man, she was delectable. “Want some?”

      She nodded.

      He held out the sandwich, putting his other hand underneath to catch the drips. When she leaned over to take a bite, her lips brushed his fingers. Just in time he stifled a groan.

      She chewed and swallowed. “It is good.”

      “You can have the rest.” You can have anything you want. He picked up his plate to give it to her.

      “No. No, thank you. I have my salad.” She started eating it again as if someone had told her she couldn’t have dessert unless she cleaned her plate.

      Alec СКАЧАТЬ