“Why?”
She didn’t resist the temptation and the tips of her right fingers touched the back of his left hand. No ring. “Your hand. You have deft and elegant fingers. I can easily see you handling a scalpel.”
He suppressed his surprise. Christ! Is she into this kind of pain? Smiling wickedly, looking deep into her eyes, he said in a deep murmur. “You don’t know how deft they can be.”
A sensation stirred inside and her breath hitched. Dear God!
He raised his glass in a toast. “To a new… partnership.” The last word, gliding over his tongue, had an ambiguity not lost on Sophia.
Their attraction was as strong as an iron and magnet. They couldn’t resist each other’s magnetism. To Sophia and Alistair, no one else existed in the room; it was just the two of them.
She touched her glass to his and looked up “To new partners,” she mumbled, blushed, and quickly drank a gulp of wine. “Have you been the bank’s CEO for long?”
“Since 2008, when I bought thirty-five percent and became the majority shareholder. Now I own sixty percent of it, and my brother and another two partners own the rest,” he boasted. Come on, Beauty, what’s missing for you to fall at my feet? A one-night stand wouldn’t be bad. I promise.
“Really?” she dismissed his accomplishment with raised brows and tilted her head to the side. “I would have imagined-”
“What?”
“That you were more than a CEO,” she said cryptically.
“What do you mean?”
Sophia waved her hand. “Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but your looks…”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I mean comparing you to Edward, you’re quite the rebel.” She blushed at her bold commentary.
“Edward? You mean Davidoff?”
She nodded.
More than co-workers, are you, Sophia? “‘Don’t judge the book by its cover.’”
She smiled. “That’s just what everyone won’t do with me. Take you, for example. You judged me on your first impression.”
“Mea culpa,” he grinned, surprised she had realized it. Perceptive…
“I liked your praise of me in the letter you sent Ed-, err, Mr. Davidoff.”
“Quite a sight to behold?”
“Ah, no.” Her hands were sweating and she wrung her napkin. “A shrewd businesswoman.”
He shifted on the seat to face her better and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. “You’re much more than that. You’re an intriguing, ravishing, intelligent woman, Sophia.” He brushed her hair aside. Silk. And his fingers touched her nape. Velvet. “Quite a sight to behold,” he murmured.
She shivered at the light contact.
Responsive. She’ll set my bed on fire. I just have to touch the right buttons.
Sophia breathed deeply. Oh, God. His scent is too good. “Can we order? Please?” she asked hoarsely.
He took pity on her and signaled for the waiter to bring the menus. He took a perfunctory look and closed it.
Sophia smiled at him. “What do you suggest? It’s quite a torture to choose from a menu like this.”
Torture? Torture is what I’m suffering under the pressure to maintain a tight leash on my desire. He looked down discretely at his pants and cursed inwardly. The into-pain submissive wants a suggestion? My apartment; on the wall, on the floor, on the bed, in the tub; tied, blindfolded, gagged, and thoroughly fucked. Hard. Or maybe she’s up for a blow job in the restaurant toilet… Aye, that would be quite satisfactory to start with.
“Alistair?” She placed her hand on his forearm, his face captivating her.
Christ! What happened to her eyes? “Are you wearing lenses?” he frowned.
“Contact lenses, you mean?” She blinked. “No. I don’t need them.”
“Drugs?” He cupped her chin and moved her face upward to get a better look at her eyes. They widened at his blunt question. “Do you do drugs?” Oh, please, not another one.
“I beg your pardon?” she snapped. “Do you, Mr. MacCraig?”
“Not MacCraig,” he breathed, amazed. “Alistair. Alistair Connor.” Fire! Her eyes are flames and I’m burning in them. “How do you change the color of your eyes like that?”
“I don’t,” she frowned at him. “They’re light brown. A very common color. Nothing special.” Nothing like this intense emerald inferno of yours.
He repeated her words, softly, “Nothing special…” He let go of her face with a soft stroke of his long fingers.
She looked baffled. “Have you chosen? Do you have any suggestions?”
“Well, it depends.” He eyed her figure, measuring her lean body. “Are you going to eat only salad?”
“Dear God, no. Why would I eat only salad?” She peered at him as if he were insane. “I love food. Especially desserts.” She licked her lips, unaware. “I was wondering is the spicy duck with Swiss chard, beetroot, and grilled onions a good choice? What do you think?”
“A wonderful choice,” he nodded, completely befuddled by the woman at his side. “I’ll have the salt cod brandade.”
Sophia was so taken with Alistair that she was certain she would have difficulty recalling the duck’s flavors to tell Edward later at work. Get a grip, Sophia. This is business. Damn. Who am I fooling? This has nothing to do with business.
Alistair barely noticed the coming and going waiters. The two of them were attracting awe-filled, lustful stares. Their sexual tension radiated and disrupted even the most serious men at their business lunches.
Alistair felt incapable of playing down his strained condition. She seemed more controlled, her movements light, whereas his were clipped. He dispensed with the bitter chocolate tartine he so liked. I want another dessert.
“Mmm,” Sophia closed her eyes as the lemon flavor of her dessert exploded on her tongue. “This is absolutely delicious.” She slowly pulled the spoon out of her mouth.
Christ! This ought to be forbidden. She’s making love to her dessert. He wanted her on her knees and him filling her mouth. Now!
To the utter desperation of the man beside her, Sophia licked her lips and gazed at him, with her yellow diamond eyes. “This is scrumptious. Do you want a taste?” Sophia found him staring at her with an unreadable expression. Strong desire shot through her body and her lips parted. Yes, please, taste it on my mouth. Goddammit! What the hell am I doing?
Alistair lost himself in the kiss-me-now look on her face. What did she ask?
“You want some?” she asked again.
He shook his head, but his eyes said yes. Aye, I want you.
“Coffee or tea?” he rasped when she finished her lemon tart. This lunch is going to win the prize of ‘The Most Sensual Lunch of All Times’.
“Coffee, please.” She said, oblivious of her companion’s problem disguising his huge erection.
Coffee arrived with chocolate truffles. When she bit into one and closed her eyes, moaning, Alistair almost came then and there. She cleaned her fingers on the napkin but couldn’t resist sucking her index finger.
Now! I need to fuck her now! He made a strangled sound and she stared sheepish at him.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“Please, don’t. By all means, suck the others if you want.” And suck me, too. He didn’t recognize his own voice; deep, dark, husky. How in hell am I going to walk out of the restaurant? He inhaled deep breaths. Orange sorbet topped with vanilla sauce and white rose petals. She’s driving you insane, Alistair Connor! Just fuck this woman and leave quickly. She’s trouble.