She exhaled, a long breath that acknowledged he was probably right. “I know. I can’t argue that. Maybe it’s just some compulsion inside me to connect with the past.”
“Brought on by what?”
She glanced at him. Was the timing right? “I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve spent the last couple of weeks thinking about the future.”
“I hear you. I have to admit this deal is consuming most of my waking hours, too.”
Now, what had happened here? She’d given him a classic opener to have a conversation about whether this was only a fling, or whether it could be something more, and he’d sent it swerving back to her. She didn’t want to talk about business. If the truth were told, she was sick of thinking about the lawsuit and the station and the show and everybody’s expectations.
Eve wanted to talk about them. She’d spent the last three years talking about relationships, while her personal life was as bare as a winter field. So how long could a person talk about something without really experiencing it?
If she were really honest with herself, maybe she’d been happy that way. If you became an expert on something, you could control it. You could live it in a surface kind of way, without risking your emotions and your vulnerabilities. The time had come to delve below the surface. To experience something so deeply that it might change her forever.
A deeply frightening thought.
But a challenge, too. And who had learned to be good at dealing with those over the last three years?
“I didn’t mean the deal. I meant my personal future.” She took a breath and plunged, feeling like one of those dolphins landing in the deep end of the tank. “And yours. Do you mean to tell me you haven’t spent your waking hours thinking about me?”
As they went outside, the late afternoon heat clamped down on them like a smothering blanket. Eve hurried her steps as they made their way back to the car.
“Let me rephrase that,” Mitch said. “Thinking about this deal means thinking about you. At night I dream about you. I wake up aroused, which means I start the day thinking about you. I’ve come to the conclusion I must be some kind of obsessive personality.”
Well, there was nothing wrong with that. This was more like it.
“Have you given any thought to what happens when the deal is done?” she asked carefully. “About where this affair of ours might be going? Or if it’s going anywhere?”
He pulled onto the freeway and she realized he was taking her back to her place.
Ooh. Maybe they could shower the sweat of the day away. Together. She had some beautiful European soap that would suds up nicely and-
“Are you always this forthright?” he asked.
“I like to be honest. I think we fell into this out of sheer sexual chemistry, but the more I do goofy things with you like going to the aquarium and the mall, the more I like being around you.”
“I like being around you, too. And I really like being in bed with you.”
“Yes, I noticed that you’re taking me home.”
“Only to drop you off, I promise. I’d like to go back to the hotel, grab a shower and take you someplace nice to eat before I take you to bed.” That grin and those eyes were so wicked that Eve felt her body respond with enthusiasm.
“Any suggestions?”
What a beautiful mouth he had. And what a skillful tongue. Those alone were worth taking a risk for. “About what?” Maybe she could convince him to skip the hotel and have his shower at her place.
“Eve,” he teased. “Focus. About food.”
“Oh. Sure. Southerners love to eat, remember. It’s just a matter of picking a place.” It took them nearly the whole way home to settle on a restaurant, with Eve thinking all the while about a way to steer the conversation back to what she really wanted to discuss: themselves.
Finally she concluded there was nothing for it but to dive right in. “Are you sure you have to go back to your hotel?”
“Patience,” he said as he pulled into her driveway. “Anticipation adds spice.”
“Is that so.” She watched him put the car into Park and then leaned in for a kiss. “How long will you make me wait?”
Ha. There was a reason she’d worn this white cotton confection. A girl used the gifts she was given. She’d seen him heroically keeping his eyes on her face while they’d been rambling through public places today. Even though he’d asked her to be a little risqué for him, he was too much of a gentleman to do more than sneak an occasional peek. And she was happy about that. She had no desire to be embarrassed in public.
But now they were in private-or as private as her driveway would allow. As she leaned over, her plunging neckline gaped away from her skin, giving him a view of her lush curves.
“Guh,” he managed.
“Come inside,” she whispered against his lips, taking his hand and holding it tented over one breast. “Anticipation is overrated.”
He made a low sound in his throat and kissed her deeply, his tongue thrusting against hers the way his body had earlier. The heat of his hand burned right through the fragile fabric as he fondled her, caressing the nipple with his thumb in a slow rhythm that made her squirm.
She had him. No man could say no after an invitation like this.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were black with desire, and he was breathing as heavily as she.
“You don’t play fair,” he rasped.
“I’m not playing at all. I want you now,” she told him, her lips a promise against the underside of his jaw. “I don’t want to wait until you get back.”
“Neither do I,” he admitted, “but I have to. My boss called. I didn’t answer it at the aquarium, but I need to, soon. Otherwise he’ll keep calling, and I’ll go insane. I don’t want to be crazed when I make love to you.”
“Call him from here.”
“The documents he wants to talk about are all at the hotel. I promise I’ll be back in two hours, max.”
He was as dedicated to his job as she was. Up until now, she’d have admired that. But her ideas were changing. She smiled, knowing when she was beaten.
At least there was a bright side, she thought as she waved goodbye and then turned to let herself into the house. If anticipation added spice, she was going to be as hot as a Thai chili by the time he got back.
NELSON BERG MAY have been a mediocre executive, but his timing was superb.
Superbly lousy.
Mitch cursed him, his job, CWB and all its affiliates all the way back to the hotel, which meant his emotions were a roiling soup of aggravation and sexual frustration when he opened the door to his room. Not the best frame of mind in which to talk to the man who could pull the plug on his career as easily as he could advance it.
Mitch took a shower to give himself time to calm down. When he came out, feeling clean at least, if not calm, his cell phone was already sounding the message alarm. He sighed. Nelson was as predictable as…well, hot weather in Atlanta.
He hit Reply To Last Caller and opened his briefcase, where the terms of the acquisition were laid out in a deal memo.
“What took you so long?” Nelson barked without so much as a hello.
“Most of a major metropolitan center was between me and this paperwork. I came back to the hotel to call.”
“And what were you doing that far from your briefcase?”
“Nelson,” Mitch said patiently, “it’s Saturday. I know the days of the week have no meaning for you, but try to imagine a life where leisure time occurs once in a while.”
“I tried to reach you yesterday, but you didn’t reply then, either. If you’re on the network’s dime, Hayes, you’d better make yourself available.”
“I turned my phone off during the taping yesterday. Must’ve forgotten to turn it back on again. I tell you, Nelson, this show is a gold mine. Eve came up with a new twist on the town-hall segment this week where audience members participated and then were analyzed the next day by a professional.”