After ordering another drink, she rounded her shoulders and positioned herself on the bar stool so her breasts were at their most perky, and her hip-to-waist ratio looked proportional. Subconsciously all men noticed that.
Then she tilted her head to the side, making her hair fall over her cheek. With a flourish, she tucked the strands behind her ear. Then slowly, she raised her eyes toward Ian. She knew he would be looking. She still felt his gaze on her. A sixth sense passed down from one generation to another.
Their gazes met again. The tiniest of smiles played about her lips. Then Ava quickly looked away. She adjusted her hair again. Counted to three. Then glanced his way once more.
He’d been waiting for her. His shoulders tensed. His lips thinned.
Ava held his gaze with her own. Held it. Held it until it became just a tad uncomfortable. Counted to three, then dropped her eyes.
She took a sip of wine from the fresh glass the bartender had placed before her, the coolness of the white liquid not putting a dent in how hot she felt. She was supposed to be demonstrating to Ian the power of flirting. Not succumbing to his dark glances.
Ava crossed her legs and angled her body more in line with his—showing affinity. One more coy glance ought to do it. She lifted her eyes.
Slam.
He was standing, facing her. He’d been sitting the last time she’d looked in his direction.
Every part of this man was focused on her. His body was aligned to hers. His eyes, unwavering, never left her face. Anyone seeing his behavior toward her would see the primitive male claiming what was his.
Ava’s nipples tightened. Her skin tingled. With a small nod, he moved toward her. His eyes never left hers as he wove his way between the tables and other patrons of the rapidly filling nightclub. The music pounded around them, the sound reminding her of a tribal drum beating a call. Her response to this man was primal and instinctive.
“Hello,” he said as he approached. This man didn’t need a corny line.
“Hi,” she said, meeting his gaze.
“I’ll give you my number, but only if you promise to stop flirting with me,” he said, his tone lightening, that dimple in his cheek appearing once more.
CHAPTER TEN
“IS THAT WHAT I WAS DOING? Flirting with you?” she asked, chuckling.
This was fun.
She’d only spent a few semesters of college on campus. The rest of the time was spent on internships or practicums. When she had lived among her fellow college students, she’d been studying so much, she’d never had a chance to go for the club scene.
Ian signaled the bartender for another drink. “You know it is. And you still are.”
She giggled then sighed inwardly. The female giggle was a flirting classic; one she particularly thought made her seem utterly vacuous. And here she was doing it. Damn instinct.
But men seemed to like it. Certainly Ian did because he began to finger the stem of her wineglass as he smiled down at her. Palming an object, particularly one that belongs to a love interest, definitely signaled his interest.
And also made her think of him touching her. Made her wonder what his hands would feel like on her body. Would he be gentle and seductive? Or heated and filled with passion?
Might as well go for it. She flashed him another classic—the half smile. “You’re right. See, I told you it worked. It got you over here. Now, you’re supposed to impress me.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“So, was that your best line?”
He shrugged. “Usually works.”
Ava bet it did. She couldn’t imagine it would be too hard for this man to have any woman he wanted. She planned to make him know she was the woman he needed at that moment. But disguised of course. Under the guise of “research.”
“Now we’re at the preening stage,” she told him as the bartender landed a bottle of beer in front of Ian.
“Aren’t I supposed to teach you about the local dating customs?”
“I learn best by doing. Why don’t I demonstrate this stage, and you tell me if I’m doing anything wrong. I’ll do stuff like toss my head, flip my hair, maybe dangle a strand around my finger.” Ava demonstrated the moves as she spoke, thrilled that Ian’s eyes clocked her every gesture.
Ava watched as he took a swallow of his beer. Who knew watching the way a man’s throat moved as he drank was sexy? She’d never read this before. This definitely should be noted. “How’d I do?” she asked, as she reached for her purse. “The hair thing seems to be most effective worldwide.”
He made some sort of noncommittal sound. What kind of confirmation, or nonconfirmation, was that? At some point, some less noisy place, she’d have to talk to him about clear, concise communication. It was imperative in research, and sometimes his signals were damned confusing.
“So do you plan to tell me what I’m supposed to do next?” he asked.
Her brow creased, and her voice lowered as if she were about to tell him a secret. “Actually, I think the man’s next moves are somewhat tougher. You have to show how big and powerful you are. You’ll be a little bit louder than I am. Your motions will be broader, demonstrating the strength of your hands and arms.”
Ian shrugged, immediately drawing her attention to the impressiveness of his shoulders. Sturdy. Strong. In more primitive times, those flexing muscles would have proven he could protect their home from any fierce sharp-toothed prey that wanted to get her. In present-day Oklahoma, the demonstration of his brawn proved he could carry the heavy stuff out to her car.
The DJ played a new, louder song and it became more difficult for them to talk and be heard. She leaned toward Ian. “But here’s the tricky part for you. Your body is saying to me, ‘I’m powerful and tough, but I’d never, ever hurt you.’ Strength coupled with tightly wielded gentleness is a heady combination.”
He swallowed, his hands lowering to his sides. “You’ll always be safe with me. Safe from me…now that’s another story.”
Her breath hitched at the promise she heard in his voice. She didn’t need to be drawn into him. She was aiming for the other way around.
“I’ll try to entice you further. I’ll gaze longer into your eyes. Looking face-to-face with anyone demands a reaction. With a member of the opposite sex you find very attractive, it’s exhilarating. Does this approach work here in this situation, too?” She held his gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly, her lips slowly parting.
He shifted, coming in closer to her. Right on cue. He probably hadn’t even realized it, but he was testing the boundaries of her personal space. She felt the heat of his body now. Saw the lights from the dance floor reflecting in his eyes.
She twisted on the bar stool, facing him. He followed suit. They’d successfully passed the preening look-at-me stage and were now in full-body synchronization. Her stomach muscles tightened.
Now on to real intimacy. “One thing that’s almost universal in flirting is a woman exposing her neck.” Ava tilted her head, allowing her hair to slide over her shoulder and down her back. “Early research suggested this was a sign of submission.”
His eyes widened.
She gently ran her fingers down her neck, traced the line of her collarbone. Her movements were supposed to draw Ian’s thoughts to following that same path. With his fingers. His mouth. But it also got her imagination leaping in that direction.
Ava cleared her throat. “But I don’t think it has anything to do with submission. I think it’s about invitation. There’s something about the gentle lines of a woman’s neck that draws a man’s eye. It’s an erogenous zone. I think presenting my neck says to a man, ‘This is a place where you can make me feel good.’ It’s a challenge.” Their gazes clashed once more. “Can you make me feel good, Ian?”