“Very.” Beck grinned, and his dimple tucked itself again in his right cheek, such a surprise in a lean masculine face, like a tiny part of his childhood hadn’t wanted to let go. “Excellent choice, too.”
Whew. Unless he was just being polite. “Are you a connoisseur?”
He shrugged modestly, which meant he probably knew everything ever written on the subject. “I like a good glass of wine.”
“I hope you’ll order some for dinner.” And save her farm girl butt.
“Happy to.” He accepted his menu from George, lifted his champagne flute and looked at her slyly over the top. “Here’s to you staying the week.”
“Thank you.” She clinked her glass with his and lifted it to her mouth, keeping the eye contact going, not letting on how thrilling and unnerving it was not to look away. The champagne tickled past her lips, over her tongue and danced down her throat. Oh that was delicious. Too delicious. In her nervous state, she was going to have to work hard not to gulp it.
“And to your new haircut.”
“Thank you.” She clinked again and drank more, hoping he’d keep toasting until she had enough in her to relax.
“And to getting to know each other while you’re here.”
May did more clinking and took an extra long sip at that one, surprised she was already regretting how short the time would be. But for just a second it sounded as if he really did want to get to know her. Except of course, it was Veronica he wanted to know, really. And how to market his books to women. And how she…did that thing to herself.
Anyway, that would have to do.
She studied her menu, trying not to feel awkward about the silence between them. The choices were fabulous, inventive, unusual. She wanted to come here every night and try everything. Panko crumbs? Diver scallops? Arugula? A far cry from bratwurst and fish fry. Would Oshkosh be safety and relief or confinement and boredom after such a week?
“Penny for them.”
She jerked her eyes off the menu and up to his face, wondering in a strange dislocated thought how his thick short spiky hair would feel under her fingers. He wanted to know what she was thinking…how could she tell him? “I was thinking about home.”
“Wanting to go back or glad you’re not there or hoping you didn’t leave the stove on?”
She laughed. “Mostly the second.”
“Do you visit hotels like HUSH often?”
Gulp. She narrowed her eyes in sultry inspiration. “What do you think?”
He tapped his finger on the side of his champagne flute. “To be honest, I’m not sure.”
“No?” Why wasn’t he? Had she slipped somewhere?
“There’s something about you that doesn’t quite fit the mold.”
“Hmm.” What the hell did he mean by that? Her Ivory girl complexion? Sophistication positively not dripping off of her? Faint odor of fertilizer? “How intriguing.”
“It is.”
She lifted her chin and met his eyes squarely. “Good.”
“What made you decide to stay?”
You. She should open her mouth and say it; she had the perfect, perfect setup. “Oh…a lot of things.”
Shit.
“Like?”
“You. For instance.” Okay, that wasn’t as good as if she’d come out with it the first time, but it was a close second.
“Really?”
She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, dipped it into the champagne and sucked the drops off her finger, not daring to look at him. “Mmm-hmm.”
He mumbled something under his breath, and then she did dare look at him, a sex-goddess peek through her lashes. She got a very good eyeful of what Veronica could do to a man when she was at her best.
Not the best eyeful, granted, the table was in the way for that.
“I’m curious about something.”
She kept the sudden alarm off her face. Of course he was going to ask about that, she knew he was, she was practically inviting it, so just go with the flow. “Yes?”
“What kind of kid were you?”
The question was so unexpected, she had no idea how to answer. What kind of kid grew up to be Veronica Lake? No way could she invent anything she could keep track of all week. Might as well tell the truth. “Shy. Quiet. A loner mostly.”
“Siblings?”
Siblings? Not cup size, not favorite position, not how she touched herself, in lurid detail, please? “A brother and a sister, much older. They were out of the house by the time I was big enough to notice. Why?”
“Part of getting to know you.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that was important for what you needed from me.”
“It’s not.”
She arched an eyebrow, letting it ask the question for her. Then why do you want to know?
George chose to appear at that extremely inopportune time. “Have you decided what you’d like to order?”
May’s teeth clenched in a frustrated imitation of a smile. She wanted to hear what would have come out of Beck’s mouth, not what he wanted to put in it. For a fantasy second she’d imagined him saying, Because I want to know everything about you, you intrigue me as no woman ever has, marry me and have my babies immediately.
Which—sigh—was such a May thing to want him to say. She was Veronica, here to have an adventure, to stay cool, aloof and uninvolved, like Eartha Kitty back in the lobby. To wow him with her womanhood. Not to immediately begin calculating the probability of long-term success in a relationship.
No wonder she had bored Dan.
In the meantime, George and Beck were still politely waiting for her to get the glazed look off her face and order.
“I’ll have the shrimp tempura appetizer and the seared salmon salad.” She folded her menu, caught herself hoping her choices were chic enough and instantly chided herself. Who cared? She was going to eat what she wanted to eat. Besides, the shrimp were battered in Japanese panko crumbs, whatever those were, and you couldn’t tell her that wasn’t chic.
George took Beck’s order—salad and steak, so what was she so worried about?—poured them more champagne and left.
“What were you like as a kid?” She tipped her head to one side, letting her new hairdo swing out over her nearly bare shoulder. Much safer topic than why he was so curious about her.
“A lot like you. In a house with two athletic brothers, I was small, studious, introverted.”
“Small?” She studied his broad shoulders as if she were contemplating her next meal.
A sexy half smile turned up the left corner of his mouth. “I grew.”
“And did that change your image?”
“Girls noticed me, yes.”
“I can just imagine.”
“What about you, were boys tripping over themselves to serve you then, too?”
She succeeded in not looking startled at the idea of men tripping over themselves to serve her then or now, and drank champagne, feeling more like Veronica every second. “Not remotely.”
“No?”
She opened her eyes wide and shook her head quickly, as if surprised he would dare question her.
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Because you strike me as the kind of woman with plenty of experience handling men.”
Ha! Oh, she could practically cry from happiness.
“Ahhh.” She drew the syllable out, her international woman of mystery persona in full throttle. “Well, things changed.”
“What happened?”
She set her glass down and straightened her shoulders so her breasts pushed forward. “I grew.”
He chuckled; his eyes flicked down and back up. “And did that change your image?”
“Men noticed me, yes.”
“I can imagine.”
She held his smile, watched his eyes warm, then darken, making sure none of the shock she felt at how strongly she was attracted showed. He was winding up to ask. She was sure of it. And she had a big fat yes ready to
go at the tip of her tongue.
“What about college?”
“What about it?” She barely kept the exasperation out of her tone. Barely.
“Men there.”
“You don’t seem to mind asking personal questions.”
“You don’t seem to mind answering them.”
“True.”
“So?”
“One boyfriend.”
“One.” He didn’t bother hiding his surprise. “Tell me about him.”
“Why?”
“I want to know.”
“Will this show up in one of your books?”
“Possibly.”
She shot a look at the far wall of the restaurant, needing to escape the powerful eye contact with Beck, thinking about Dan and how to describe him, hoping her voice wouldn’t thicken and betray tenderness. “He was full of energy and fun, always the center of a crowd, the life of the party. Everyone liked Dan.”
He cocked his head quizzically. “Not everyone liked you?”
“I think people couldn’t figure out what he was doing with me.”
Oops. Should not have said that last part. But he was drawing her in with his sympathy and easy manner and she forgot to be a big fat liarpants. She couldn’t even relax and coast on nodding and beaming because he wasn’t talking about himself.
“What was he doing with you?”
Okay. She could fix this. She let her tongue creep out and take a leisurely exploratory voyage along her bottom lip. “Mmm…a lot of things.”
The glass of champagne on the way to his lips froze before it reached its destination. May drained hers. Their food better come soon or she’d start bouncing up and down in her seat from excitement. Except for a few minor slipups, Veronica had taken over completely. May couldn’t believe what she was saying, how she was acting. This was the most amazing thing she’d ever done, all the flirty silly stuff she’d watched other women doing, all the tricks Dan said a girl like her shouldn’t bother trying to pull off—well, she was. Trying them. And pulling them off. And how.
George brought their first course, and after the first heavenly crunch, May set to in earnest, savoring the flavors mingling on her tongue before each next bite. Oh, the chef was a magician. And panko crumbs were her new passion. Light and crisp, they surrounded the juicy shrimp in an extraordinary non-greasy coating.
“Good?”
“Good.” She smiled. Obviously the fact that she was inhaling crustaceans meant she thought it was good. “Now tell me about the women in your life.”
He shrugged. “Seems I’ve always been with someone.”
She stopped eating. He’d said that as if the concept utterly bored him. Was he with someone now? She’d never even thought to ask. Yikes, he could be married, too, though he didn’t have a ring. “Always?”
“Well, not now.”
She resumed breathing and went back to her meal. “You talk about women as if they were interchangeable. Like Lego parts.”
“No, nothing like that.” He took a bite of purple lettuce and chewed thoughtfully. She waited, sensing the statement had a follow-up. “Actually…”
“They are Lego women?”
A frown creased his forehead. “Either love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, or I’m not capable of it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. You think it should be a thrill a minute for the rest of your life.”
His frown deepened, not as if her words upset him, but as if he was mulling them over. “No, I don’t think it has to be. But something more than that feeling of déjà vu every time you get together.”
She bit into her last shrimp and masticated it into panko-y pulp. Men. Ptooey. He sounded just like Dan. Life isn’t one big amusement park ride, boohoo. “Maybe you haven’t met the right woman.”
“Maybe I haven’t.” He met her eyes deliberately across the table, and her panko pulp nearly went down the wrong pipe.
She put her fork down on her empty plate. “So you think there’s a woman out there who can give you what you’re looking for?”
“I’d like to believe there is.”
May shook her head. “Maybe you need to be looking more at yourself.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Are you as worried about making her life a thrill a minute?”
He didn’t react, stared at her as if she’d suddenly materialized at his table for one.
Oops. May felt herself shrinking into familiar mortification. And he was doing exactly what Dan did when she screwed up. The old staring silent treatment. “I’m sor—”
“Maybe you’re right.”
She blinked. Maybe she was what? “I’m sorry?”
“I said maybe you’re right.”
May blinked again. She tried to think of one single time when Dan had admitted he was wrong. One. And was coming up empty all around. “Well I didn’t mean to imply that—”
“Yes you did.” He smiled, then his smile widened to a single-dimple chuckle. “Point well taken. I probably could have done more to keep the excitement going. I know I could have. Most of them had no problem telling me so.”
George took their plates away, poured more champagne and left an awkward silence that May had to work not to squirm into.
So what now, Veronica? After that mess, a remark about the weather? A casual inquiry into the state of his book? A careless remark about the sex toys in your room, their use and function in times of—
“May.”
“Yes?” She put an elbow on the table and rested her chin on the back of her hand, intending to look seductively all-ears, but instead feeling as if she was posing for one of those impossibly uncomfortable-looking professional head shots.
Damn. She’d been on such a roll, and then she got all earnest and analytical, more like her real self. For all his politeness, he was probably wondering how to cut the evening short. Get her statement on self-pleasuring for the Female Gender, then beat a hasty retreat to his room.
“Have you given any thought to helping me with my book?”
Bingo. Here it came. She’d have to pull a serious rabbit out of her hat to end the evening on the sensual note she’d been hoping for. “Of course.”
“And?”
“I’m curious about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Why do you need me to tell you?”
He looked up from his champagne without lifting his head, so his eyes were half-lidded and sensual. “Let’s just say the women I’ve known never seemed to feel the need to supplement.”
“Ah.” She tried to look as if she were absorbing the information calmly, all the while wanting to fan herself.
“So?”
“I’d love to help you.” Her stomach clenched but she got the words out. Kept her face impassive. She reached for her bubbly and drained half of it, then caught his eye, which was looking rather speculative. Uh-oh.
“You’re sure it doesn’t bother you?”
“No, why?”
He frowned slightly. “I don’t know, maybe the white knuckles holding your glass.”
Damn. She put it down and gave him an oh-pooh wave. “Just making sure I don’t drop it.”
“Right. Okay.”
He didn’t believe her. Crap. She needed something to convince him. It was so important to her that she pull this off. After coming this far, she’d never forgive herself if she backed out of the chance to get so intimate and sexual with this gorgeous man.
“So how did you want to proceed?” She stifled a groan. Maybe she could sound a little more like a textbook.
“You can write down your thoughts, or…”
“Mmm?”
“You can tell me here, or…” He looked around. “Somewhere more private.”
That sounded more interesting. Except she could feel a blush zooming up her cheeks, and he was giving her that skeptical look of concern again, as if he was pushing the dainty flower beyond her abilities. Damn damn damn.
She had to show him this dainty flower could kick serious butt.
“Those would be fine…” May trailed off, then hesitated deliberately.
“But?”
“But I was wondering…” She leaned forward as if she was afraid of being overheard, when actually, she wanted to give him a lovely long look down her dress.
“Wondering?” Instead of down her dress, he was looking concerned again, and her heart gave a thump.
“If instead of me writing down my views on the subject…” She leaned farther.
“Yes?” This time his eyes did make the journey. And stayed for a nice long visit.
“Or telling you what they are…”
“Ye-e-es?”
She raised her eyebrows, all innocence.
“I wondered if you’d rather just watch me.”
6
Note on Exhibit A waitstaff board:
One of our performers, Sasha, lost an earring. Silver stud with dangling pearl drop. Please keep an eye out.
Frank
MAY CLOSED the room door behind her and slumped against it as if bad guys were chasing her and she’d barely managed to give them the slip. Oh, my God, what had she done? Told Beck she’d pleasure herself in front of him? While he watched? And what, took notes?
Oh, my God.
The second the offer had left her lips, even Veronica had freaked out. It was all she could do to keep the sensual expression on her face while her nerve endings were crackling and zinging in terror. One thing to flirt and smolder appropriately. But she was hardly a sexual dominatrix. Dan had always taken the lead in the bedroom. She’d never had to perform for anyone like this.
Somehow she’d made it through the rest of the delicious meal. Somehow, she’d managed to chat normally—granted he was interesting and seemed interested in what she thought and felt, which she wasn’t used to since Dan knew her so well he didn’t need to ask anymore. Somehow, she managed a smile when the elevator reached his floor and he got off alone. She needed to freshen up, she’d said. She’d be by his room in a bit.
A bit? Could she psych herself up for something like this in a bit? She didn’t even think she could do it in a huge honking chunk.
As far as she could tell, none of her dinner had digested yet; it was all sitting right there in her stomach, exactly as swallowed.
Thrill Me Page 8
