by Eden Summers
“You’re insane,” she grated through clenched teeth and ran for the shoebox sized cupboard in the hall. She yanked a long-sleeved dress from a coat hanger, thigh-high stockings, a black jacket, and shiny pumps from the floor. By the time she was dressed it was 7:38 p.m.
Make-up took another ten minutes. She was going to be late. Really late.
She didn’t bother with jewelry; she wasn’t dressed to impress, anyway. It was business, after all. Business, business, business, even though the palpitations of her heart said otherwise. She tugged on her heels, snatched her clutch from the bedside table, and chanced another glimpse at the clock. 7:55 p.m.
“Damn it.”
Keenan didn’t seem the type to wait for anyone, let alone a woman he barely knew. She stalked from her room, ignored everyone in the reception area, and hailed a cab with the precision of a Playboy model.
Before she’d had a chance to properly consider what she was doing, she was outside Sated Palate, looking through the large floor to ceiling windows for a man she shouldn’t be searching for.
Indecision kicked in. Or maybe it was common sense. He wouldn’t have waited for her. Not for fifteen minutes.
She turned, prepared to hail another cab, and came face to face with temptation.
“Keenan,” his name gasped from her lips.
The sight of him gave her vertigo. He was dressed in tailored pants that hugged his thighs and a collared, buttoned-up shirt which left little to the imagination of the muscled chest underneath. Even in the freezing cold his sleeves were folded above his wrists, giving him a kick of casual sophistication.
He raised a brow at her, wordlessly asking where she was going in such a hurry.
“I couldn’t see you inside.” Her mouth dried at the perfection of him, her body reacting to a rapid case of dehydration. “I thought you might have left already.”
He smiled, a meager lift of beautiful lips before he began to leisurely take in her appearance, all the way to her feet. She could feel the trail of his stare. It skimmed every nerve along her skin, nudged all her erogenous zones one by one.
His eyes came back to meet hers and he mouthed, “Stunning.” Or at least she thought he did. He could’ve just as easily said starving.
She glanced at the cars behind him, at the sanctuary that would come from the inside of a cab. How was she going to communicate with him in a public restaurant? It was different last night. Their bodies had spoken for them.
He followed her gaze, searching for the truth she didn’t want to give. She swallowed, unable to admit she was about to run. Anyone with a vagina would roll their eyes and groan at her desire to flee. Well, anyone apart from Penny.
But for the first time in Savannah’s life she felt susceptible to exposure. She wasn’t like most women. She didn’t swoon over the thought of commitment or the possibility of marriage. Relationships didn’t interest her, unless it revolved around phenomenal sex and no tightening strings.
So why did Keenan nudge her consciousness like no other man had before? He remained on her mind when she should be focused on work. He also intrigued her for reasons that didn’t relate specifically to the bedroom.
It could be the whole want-what-you-can’t-have scenario. She was only in Seattle temporarily, and the language barrier was a thrilling challenge. Her cousin’s warning to stay away hadn’t helped either. She’d regressed to her childhood when her mother would tell her not to say or do something. Of course she was going to disobey at the first given opportunity.
It was human nature.
Instinct.
A strong hand brushed her hip and he looked at her with a raised brow.
“I was…” She licked her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t be here, Keenan. Dominic made it clear that I shouldn’t spend time with you.” Christ. She needed to keep her mouth shut.
His smile faded. The tiny increments of dissatisfaction stabbed at her sternum as his focus narrowed. He stepped into her, his lips tight, his eyes feral. The hand on her hip vanished and in its place came a delicate grip on her chin.
She swallowed hard, hearing everything he couldn’t say in the possessive expression on his face. He didn’t stop looking at her, didn’t quit compelling her into mind-numbing confusion until his mouth pressed against hers, stealing her thoughts of fleeing.
He tugged her into his body and kissed her as if nobody was watching. As if nobody else existed. With deft flicks of his tongue and soulful movements of his lips, he made her toes curl and the most delicious sensation ignite in her belly.
When they broke apart, his attention was already fixed on the restaurant, denying her emotional attention to parallel all the sexual. With a jerk of his head, he coaxed her forward and held the restaurant door open for her.
“The table you requested is ready, sir.” A young woman smiled at him and then led them through the bustling room to an intimate setting beside the window.
The building was contemporary. All dimly lit surfaces and quaint furnishings. It was neither upmarket nor shabby, which led her to believe he hadn’t tried to impress her with the location. Not that she was hoping to be impressed.
Not at all.
Nope.
The atmosphere was casual yet still entirely appealing. Just like Keenan.
As Savannah approached the table, he grabbed her elbow, halting her. She opened her mouth in confusion, then closed it as he slid past her and graciously pulled out her chair. The gesture startled her. Confused her. She had him pegged as the bad-boy, mysterious type, yet here he was with impeccable manners and a pleased gleam in his eye.
“A gentleman?” She slid into her chair, loving the way his knuckles brushed the back of her jacket. “I never would’ve guessed.”
He moved out from behind her, grabbed his own chair and repositioned it from the opposite side of the table, to the spot beside her. Close, so close. His leg brushed hers as he sat, and from the unaffected way he held his expression, she knew it was deliberate.
He wasn’t startled by the connection that buzzed between them. He was probably immune. Too perfect to notice anything as meaningless as attraction. His gaze continued to focus on her. It didn’t stop. They shared a conversation without words. A communication without speech.
“I’m sorry I was late.” She shrugged off her jacket, needing to break the silence and sever the power of his stare. “I wasn’t sure if I should come.”
He gave a breath of a chuckle and grinned at the table as if he knew she hadn’t planned on walking inside to find him.
“Did you have fun last night?” She should’ve stopped the question before it left her lips. He couldn’t give her a definitive answer. Not without words. And she didn’t want to second guess if an affirmative answer meant he’d gotten down and dirty with her cousin. “Forget I asked. I guess I’m not comfortable with silence.”
She wished she would’ve spared a thought at the awkwardness of a shared meal. Maybe it would be different if she knew him like Dominic did. But a one-sided conversation in a bustling restaurant wasn’t her idea of fun. The last thing she wanted to do was offend him, yet this situation was entirely out of her comfort zone, not only on a personal level, on a sexual one, too.
He frowned at her from under his lashes and opened his mouth as if to speak. She crept forward in her chair, poised to read his lips only to watch them press together again.
A menu was shoved toward her, his gruff movements announcing that she’d offended him with her ‘uncomfortable with silence’ comment.
“Thanks.”
He didn’t open his menu. Instead, he sat there, watching as she opened hers and then trailed an index finger over the list of food. She couldn’t read a word. She was too busy stealing glances at him, wondering when or if the meal would become easier. The more he watched her, the more her nervousness built.
She wracked her brain trying to figure out what to say, what to do. He was relying on her to create a conversation and she was clueless when he couldn’t reply. Ap
art from playing a one-sided game of twenty questions that only involved yes or no answers, she was stumped.
It wasn’t like he was helping to soften the awkwardness. He could’ve pulled out his cell and texted her. Or maybe he didn’t have a cell… Hell, a napkin and pen would’ve sufficed. But the hint of determination in his features seemed to imply his unwillingness to acknowledge his lack of speech.
She closed her eyes in defeat and internally chastised herself for meeting him. It was a bad idea. Dominic had already told her as much. She’d ignored the one cousin she trusted. All for what? A man who daunted her? A guy who didn’t believe in fidelity?
The warmth of his touch slid over her knee and she opened her eyes to find steely gray irises focused on her. Breathing became hard, thinking even harder.
“Keenan.” His fingers had a direct line to her sex. Each brush against her skin was like a swipe along her pussy. In the blink of an eye her apprehension flittered away and arousal descended like a monsoon.
She wanted him—his conversation, his attention, his body. Absolutely all the things she shouldn’t want or couldn’t have.
She shook her head, denying the pleasure taking over her senses. “I didn’t come here because of us.” She cringed at how presumptuous she sounded. There was no us. There were only stolen moments with his fingers in her cherry pie. “What I mean is, I didn’t come here because of last night. I came because I hoped to get answers about Penny.”
He straightened, the heavenly touch of his fingers sliding from her thigh to rest back on the table.
At least she had his attention.
“Dominic told me you work with her.”
He nodded, the movement clipped, and grasped the glass of water in front of him. She watched as he drank, the clear liquid moistening deliciously full lips.
“Does that mean you work for Grandiosity?”
He inclined his head. She wanted to push for more information, to determine what role he played, but without pen and paper the guessing game could take hours. Grandiosity was more successful and had a larger scope of employees than Rydel. He could be anything from a graphic designer to a maintenance man. And she felt entirely guilty for assuming his position was low-level due to his limited ability to communicate.
No, it wasn’t only his lack of speech.
He didn’t boast an excessive bank balance. His attire so far hadn’t included expensive suits. There wasn’t a flash of an ostentatious watch or an offer to ride in his extravagant car. He’d taken her to an understated restaurant, spent time at family dinners and low-key bonfires. She’d spent enough time around men with deep pockets to know the signs.
She took a break from Keenan’s scrutiny and focused on the far end of the restaurant. Business was no longer on the agenda. This was now about her body, the way it tingled, the way certain parts clenched when he stared, and most importantly, how she could get more. She had to spit it out. Get on with it. Confident the hell out of this discussion.
“Are you with her?” Her tone was authoritative. Fearless. Totally bad-ass.
He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and shut her off to his suave affection. He didn’t need money or power. That look alone sent her up in flames, exposing every nerve to his appealing confidence.
She glared, attempting to chink his superiority, and failed miserably. He was impenetrable. A stone-cold wall.
“You don’t think I deserve to know?”
He appraised her with an impassive stare. There was no charm, no concern. He seemed like he didn’t care for the conversation, or her in general anymore.
“Well, as informative and fun as this whole experience has been, I think it’s best if I leave.” She placed her hands on the edge of the table, preparing to push to her feet when his palm pressed down on her fingers.
“Are you ready to order?”
A waitress stepped into Savannah’s periphery, a notepad in hand. Damn her and her impeccable timing.
Keenan turned his attention to the woman, his smile sly as he nodded.
“The usual?” the young, brunette asked.
Another nod. As the woman scribbled on her notepad, he raised a flat hand to his chin and then lowered it to expose his palm.
Sign language?
“No problem.” The waitress turned her attention to Savannah. “How about you?”
“What is his usual?” It was probably something masculine and entirely caveman. Steak. Rare. Fries and definitely no salad or vegetables.
“He has the dipping breads as an appetizer, which is big enough to share.” The woman shrugged. “Or you could order your own if you like…”
Keenan was already shaking his head, the gentle glide back and forth holding too much authority for her nipples not to take notice.
“No, I’m sure he’ll let me have some of his.” She grinned at him and then focused back on the waitress in a vain attempt to prove to him that he didn’t hold all her attention.
“For the main meal, he has the twelve-ounce rib eye, cooked medium with pepper sauce and a side of potato wedges.”
“That sounds perfect.” She held in her laughter at her accurate assessment, not that it mattered. The sensation quickly faded. If she could pick his palate with ease, then she couldn’t be far from wrong in her previous assumptions.
He wasn’t about success and hard work like she was. But more distressing than that, he was trouble. Madness. He was going to cause her more days of unsettled thoughts and maybe a few gray hairs, and still she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Not before she had her answer.
“The appetizers won’t be long.”
Savannah nodded as the waitress sauntered away. There was a beat of uncomfortable silence, one that settled discomfort at the top of her spine and slowly shimmied its way down.
“I need to know, Keenan.” She couldn’t let the conversation drop. “It’s not like I’m going to run to Penny as soon as you divulge the truth. I just need to know for my own sake. To figure out if it’s something I’m willing to get involved in.”
She hadn’t been sure. Not consciously. Being the other woman was a taboo, a severe slap in the face to the girl-code, yet she’d announced what her conscience had been trying to hide—she’d contemplated surrendering to this man, girlfriend or not. She’d contemplated it over and over and over again. Almost non-stop since the bonfire.
He leaned in close, so close their breath mingled as he shook his head. No.
“Are you sure?” Her voice was raspy, sex starved.
He came closer, gifting her with the seriousness in his eyes, before he swiped his mouth over hers in a firm press that had her thighs clenching together. When he pulled back, she felt like she’d disembarked from a speed boat race, and here he was, relaxed as if he’d just returned from a late night stroll in the park.
He remained there, right there, his nose rubbing against hers as he nodded.
“Do you know I’m only here for a few months?” Her throat was dry, making it harder to breathe. He nipped her lower lip, making her gasp. Everything he did was delicious. Why? Why, oh why had the heavens given one man so much power?
She pulled back, as far as her hungered libido would allow. “Is that the appeal? The foregone expiration date?”
He growled, the deep sound echoing between them. He ran a strong hand through her hair, holding her in place as he looked her in the eye. “No,” he mouthed with fervor.
“Oh, boy,” she whispered, inspiring another of his jaw-dropping grins. “You’re going to be a huge mistake, aren’t you?”
His soundless chuckle brushed against her tongue and he nodded into her as he took possession of her mouth. He continued to hold her, his hand still in her hair, his lips firm and unyielding. He kissed her like they were seconds away from fucking, as if they weren’t in a crowded room with a hundred witnesses to their carnality.
“Ahum.” A throat cleared at their side. “The dipping breads.”
She pulled back a hell o
f a lot quicker than someone who didn’t have a problem with public displays of affection, and winced at the waitress.
The woman nudged the plate between them and placed it on the table. “Enjoy.”
The waitress’s sly smile announced she wasn’t talking about the food.
Savannah giggled through the embarrassment and waited for the unease to disappear.
It didn’t.
She was more nervous now than before the kiss. Before he blew her metaphorical socks off and out the door, never to be seen again. Because now they’d wordlessly acknowledged they were taking this thing between them a step further.
She was going to get to know him, at least physically, and if Penny found out it would put all the Rydel Seattle staff in jeopardy. More than they already were.
It was a lot of weight to place on Savannah’s shoulders, all in the name of sex.
She gripped her cloth napkin and twisted it in her hands to remove the sweat from her palms. She didn’t plan on advertising her involvement with him. Dominic already disapproved, and she didn’t know anyone else in Seattle.
She could keep it discreet.
She totally could.
Her chest pounded in protest and she heaved out a breath to dislodge the ache. In slow motion, Keenan’s hand glided over hers, squeezing a dose of support into her being. She met the question in his gaze and couldn’t help the way her heart climbed into her throat at the sight of him.
He knew something was wrong.
“I’m nervous.” Admitting the truth didn’t alleviate the awkwardness. In fact, it increased it. “I’m worried what will happen if Penny finds out.”
His brow furrowed. It wasn’t in anger or resentment. There was a hint of regret to it. A softness that spoke of apology.
He turned her hand over and began to trail his fingers along the lines of her palm. Such a simple gesture, and yet the sensation ricocheted right through her. It tickled and titillated. Soothed and stung. Every single part of her was humming with life.
They sat in silence that was no longer uncomfortable. She took her time to appreciate all the little things she hadn’t noticed before. Like the way his eyes told a tale. Those gray depths were descriptive, speaking louder than words. She could see how he was mesmerized with her. Intrigued. The same way she was with him.
