Old Enough To Know Better. Vicki Thompson LewisЧитать онлайн книгу.
see about that,” Sam said with a smile. Then he guided Kasey to an empty table right next to the crowded dance floor.
Once there, he held her chair and leaned down to speak directly into her ear. “What do you want to drink?”
She turned to answer him and her mouth nearly collided with his. When she pulled back, he caught her chin with his hand.
“Hey, there.” He stayed in close, a gentle smile on his face. “You’re not having a shyness attack, are you?”
Shy was the last word she wanted him to associate with her. “Not in the least.” She smiled back. “But I didn’t want to be the cause of you getting teased, in case your brother’s around.”
“Let me worry about that.” His expression grew warmer and he stroked her chin with his thumb. “I sure wish we didn’t have to be here.”
“But we do.”
“Yeah. So what do you want?”
She’d watched enough movies and read enough books to know that a happening chick would pick up on that opening. “Whatever you’re offering, Sam.”
He groaned. “Later. Later you can have whatever you want. Right now all I can give you is a drink.”
“Mineral water, then.”
His smile widened. “I like that. A woman who wants to stay alert. I think I’ll have the same.”
“Don’t abstain on my account.”
“Oh, it’s completely on your account. Normally I enjoy the band much more when I’m a little sloshed. But for tonight, I’ll forgo that crutch.”
“For heaven’s sake, at least have a beer.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Considering what’s at stake later on, this will be no sacrifice.”
Her heart beat like crazy as she absorbed his meaning. If only she could go with the flow, but she didn’t dare, not with this man. “You seem to have forgotten about getting acquainted first.”
“No, I haven’t.” He dropped a slow, lingering kiss on her lips.
She couldn’t stop him without making a scene. And from that first magic taste, she didn’t want to stop him. Once again, she was lost to the world. The music faded and the crowd noise disappeared. There was only the sweet pressure of his mouth on hers, and she wanted more, so much more….
He ended the kiss and took a shaky breath. “There.”
She opened her eyes, feeling like Sleeping Beauty. But this was no fairy tale and she was not going to be swept away by the handsome prince. Not if she could help it.
“I know you better already,” he murmured.
“You can’t find out anything from a kiss.”
“Sure I can. For example—”
“Can I take your order, sir?” called out a waiter who’d appeared behind Sam.
Kasey glanced over Sam’s shoulder and caught the waiter’s eye. He winked at her. Being with Sam had already elevated her status. No waiter had ever winked at her before.
Sam straightened and turned around. As he gave the guy their order, Kasey took a moment to dredge up some of her famous self-discipline. She hadn’t graduated from college at eighteen by allowing distractions to ruin her game plan. This was no different. Well, it was a little bit different. Okay, it was a lot different.
But if she’d been disciplined in her studies, she could be disciplined in limiting the amount of kisses that went on. No, not limiting—eliminating. She couldn’t afford any more moments of oblivion. She quickly reviewed her list of reasons and vowed to keep them firmly in mind.
Sam took his seat across from her and plopped the waiter’s ordering pad on the small table.
She raised her voice to make herself heard. “What are you doing with that?”
“Borrowed it for a while!” He scribbled something on the pad, tore off the top sheet and handed it across the table, along with the pen he’d apparently scrounged from the waiter.
She glanced at the paper, where he’d written, “Are you a morning person or a night person?” She started to laugh. No wonder he’d built a successful business. He was an extremely resourceful guy. She admired that in people, and she was gradually coming to admire Sam, not to mention wanting to jump his bones.
After writing “night person” on the paper, she handed it back. That kind of information shouldn’t get her in trouble. Mainly she had to avoid biographical information like where she went to high school, which was also his high school.
Sam wrote “me, too” under her answer and held it up so she could see it. He seemed pleased to have that in common, but then he probably expected this was the start of something spectacular. She was starting to feel guilty, because it wouldn’t be the start of anything. Unfortunately, she thought of him as sexual training wheels, and that wasn’t fair to him or any guy. Maybe she should give some excuse about hating the music and make her exit.
She didn’t need to hang around any more to see she had temptress potential or even to have stories for the women at the office. Her goal of making him want her had been accomplished and then some. She’d earned her first stripe as a Bad Girl, so she could stop the charade now.
He would be hurt and confused, would probably try to contact her again, but she could handle that. What she couldn’t handle was getting in deeper with him and then forcing herself to back away. Right now she’d inflict only superficial wounds on his ego, but the longer she played this game, the worse it would be on him.
Meanwhile Sam was busy writing another question. He pushed the paper across the table and tossed her the pen.
This was her chance to leave. All she had to do was flip the page over and write “Have to go—music’s giving me a headache.” He wouldn’t be able to leave with her, not when his brother’s band was about to take the stage. He’d probably call her a cab, and that would be that.
If she meant to leave, she shouldn’t read whatever question he’d come up with, because the question wouldn’t matter. But she’d been born with an extremely inquisitive mind. The trait had been a blessing for the most part, but was a curse, now.
Chastising herself for doing it, she read his question. “What was your favorite book when you were seven years old?” Damn it, she knew she shouldn’t have read his question. He wasn’t just playing at this get-acquainted business. He really wanted to know who she was. Okay, she’d answer his question, and maybe that would send him running for the hills.
She picked up the pen and wrote “Megatrends for Women. Yours?” Then she scooted the paper across the table and waited for his reaction, the reaction she usually got from all except the genius-level guys.
Sure enough, his eyes widened and he glanced up. She could almost read his thoughts—system alert: brain-iac in the house. Then he smiled and picked up the pen. He continued to smile as he wrote down his favorite book and added another line, maybe another question.
When he pushed the paper over to her, she hesitated before picking it up. She was supposed to be out of here by now. Instead she was still trading notes with Sam. But she had to find out what he’d written, and what his next question would be. Without realizing it, he’d chosen a method of communication that tapped right into her curious nature. She found the suspense contained in each note irresistible.
Glancing down, she read “Goodnight, Moon was my favorite book. I think you’re probably a lot smarter than I am. Is that a problem for you?” She looked up and saw the uncertainty in his expression. He wasn’t rejecting her because of her brains—he was afraid she’d reject him.
Her heart turned over. She couldn’t leave now. Instead she wrote “No way” across the bottom of