A Glimpse of Fire. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
smiled. “Actually I’ve only been up there once, when Mrs. Webber gave the grand tour a couple of years ago.”
She glanced at her watch. “I suppose it would be all right for a few minutes.”
“Then you turn into a pumpkin?”
Her lips curved in a mysterious smile. “Something like that.”
THE GARDEN AREA WASN’T LARGE. Dimly lit, about the size of a guest room, flowers grew everywhere. Red geraniums, white daisies and sprays of pink blossoms spilled from several barrel-size stone urns. A trellis leaning against the reddish brick was covered with tiny climbing white roses that perfumed the air with their seductive scent.
Beyond the decorative black wrought iron that surrounded the rooftop garden were the lights of Manhattan and the shadows of Central Park.
“What a fantastic view.” Hands gripping the rail, she leaned out, a gentle breeze blowing back her honey-blond hair, giving him an unobstructed view of her profile. The small, slightly upturned nose and skin that was remarkably flawless except for the scar.
Eric’s curiosity got the better of him and he asked, “How did you get that?”
She turned to look at him and he pointed to his own chin. Her hand shot up to touch the marked area, her mouth twisting wryly.
She rolled her eyes. “Totally my fault. I got it at work when I wasn’t paying attention.”
“At work? How?”
She looked away. “This is a beautiful view. I wonder how much one of these co-ops cost.” She smiled. “Not that I’d ever be able to afford one.”
“I will someday.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Ambitious or optimistic?”
He laughed. “Both.”
“I wish you luck.” She gave him a peculiar smile and then turned away to look out over Central Park.
“You must make good money modeling.”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “What makes you think I’m a model?”
He stared, waiting for a telltale flicker to cross her face. She didn’t even blink. “Aren’t you?”
“No. But I’m flattered.” She seemed so damned sincere. Maybe he was going crazy.
“Then what do you do?”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Just making conversation.”
“Then you won’t mind talking about something else.” Her lips curved in a smile that made him her slave.
A totally new experience for him. He liked women, of course, but he hadn’t found one yet that had him thinking with the wrong head. Not since high school, anyway. “You like being the mystery woman, huh?”
The smile lingering on her lips, she lifted her chin and shook back her hair, lifting her face to the balmy breeze.
“So, if I can’t get more than your name, how am I going to ask you out to dinner?”
After a moment’s hesitation she looked directly at him and asked, “When?”
“Tomorrow night.” God, he hoped he could get a reservation this late. “Amuse Bouche. It’s that new restaurant at the—”
“I know it.” Amusement lit her eyes. “Trying to impress me?”
“Damn right.”
She laughed. “Another point for honesty. But unless you had another date cancel on you, we will not be getting into Amuse Bouche tomorrow night.”
“I confess. No reservations, but I know the maître d’.”
“Ever been to Hakata on West Forty-eighth?”
He frowned. “Sushi place, isn’t it?”
“Among other things.”
Just his luck, the woman was one of those adventurous-eater types. That was the trouble with New Yorkers. They weren’t happy with a simple steak. “You wanna go there?”
She grinned. “Ever tried sushi?”
He sighed. All the guys in the office kidded him. When they went for sushi, he went to McDonald’s. “I have a feeling I’m about to.”
“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.”
“The stuff is raw. Can’t be good for you.”
She laughed. “Common misconception. Sushi can include raw fish but not necessarily. Don’t worry. I’m a pro at ordering for neophytes. I’ll be gentle with you.”
He cleared his throat and tried not to make anything of the way she moistened her lips. Tried not to stare at her glistening lower lip. “Not too gentle. That would take out all the excitement.”
Her eyebrows rose.
Eric smiled. “Bring it on.”
She laughed, deep and throaty, and the sound skated down his spine. “You’re giving me carte blanche?”
“I’m all yours.” He hoped they weren’t talking about sushi. Or he was screwed.
“Hmm…”
He moved closer. She didn’t retreat. Excellent sign. “So, what would you like to do with me?”
“Oh, I never tip my hand too soon.”
“Oh, right. A woman of mystery and surprise.”
“You have no idea.”
“I’m willing to stick around until I get an idea.”
She smiled. “You get another point for being adventurous.”
“Yeah? And what exactly are these points worth?”
She tilted her head to the side and pursed those sexy lips of hers. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“I don’t.” He took her hand, and when she didn’t resist, he pulled her against him and slid his arms around her narrow waist.
She tilted her head back, her eyes glittering with unmistakable challenge. He lowered his head and she lifted her chin to meet his lips. They touched, gently at first, tentative, searching, exploring, and then she opened her mouth to him.
He slid his tongue between her lips and tasted her eagerness. That’s all the permission he needed to plunge deeper. When she put her hands on his chest and slid her palms up to his shoulders, the tips of her fingers doing this little stroking thing that drove him crazy, he stifled a moan, willed his sudden hard-on to calm down before he scared the hell out of her.
But he couldn’t calm down and she didn’t scare. Instead she moved her hips, taunting him, driving him beyond insane. He cupped her backside, not sure if he wanted to stop her or make her grind harder.
Taking the decision out of his hands, abruptly she moved back, stared at him for a moment and then let her hands slide down his chest. “I have to go.”
“Now?”
She smiled. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure— Wait!”
She’d already headed for the door that led to the stairs but stopped hesitantly and then turned to him.
“Dallas?”
“I’ll be there at seven,” she said and then took off.
4
DALLAS HAD BARELY FINISHED her first cup of coffee when Wendy plodded into the kitchen, still wearing red boxers and a white tank top—her preferred pajamas.
“What