Dallas only smiled.
His gaze still fastened on Dallas, Lawrence took her hand. “Who do we have here?”
“This is Dallas.” Annoyed that he couldn’t even introduce her last name, Eric forced a smile. “And this is our host, Lawrence Horn.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Horn.”
Lawrence raised her hand to his lips, his gaze staying on her face.
Amusement twinkled in Lawrence’s pale blue eyes as he continued to study Dallas with an odd fascination. “Do I know you?” he finally asked.
She blinked and darted a nervous glance at Eric. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
Lawrence squinted at her. “I know this face.”
Eric didn’t say a word. He was enjoying this way too much. Let her try to wiggle out of this one.
She shrugged a shoulder and casually withdrew her hand. “I guess we blondes all look alike.”
Lawrence laughed heartily. “No, my dear, not all blondes are created equally.”
A waiter appeared with a tray of canapés, and Dallas took an exceptionally long time to choose one of the morsels. Not that it mattered. Eric had faith in Horn. The guy was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something. And Dallas had clearly piqued his curiosity.
“I know.” Lawrence nodded knowingly once the waiter had gone. “You’re a model in Eric’s ads. That’s where I’ve seen you.”
“No,” Eric promptly offered. “She’s never worked for me.”
“Come now.” Lawrence frowned. “It’ll annoy me until I figure this out. You are a model, yes?”
Dallas chewed thoughtfully, and then said, “I used to model, but it’s been quite a while.”
“Hmm…” Lawrence shook his head, looking confused, and then started to say something further, but Dallas interrupted him.
She put a hand to her throat. “I’m sorry but—Eric, would you mind getting me something to drink?”
“Stay.” Lawrence put his hand up to forestall Eric. With his other he snapped his fingers in the air and a waiter came running. That kind of behavior Eric despised. But Lawrence had other good qualities. Besides, he alone was responsible for about twenty percent of Webber and Thornton’s revenue. And most of Eric’s annual bonus.
They all gave the waiter their orders, and after he left, Lawrence said, “Please forgive my poor manners. I practically ambushed you at the door.”
“Oh, please.” Dallas put a hand on his arm. “We’re flattered that you personally greeted us. But I was wondering if it would be okay to wander into the gallery.”
“Yes, of course.” Lawrence waved expansively with his hand, the giant ruby he always wore on his ring finger flashing like wildfire under the lights. “No place is off limits to you, pretty lady.” His mouth curving, he inclined his head toward Eric but kept his eyes on Dallas. “Talk him into buying you a piece of art. Always a good investment, in my estimation.”
Eric snorted. As if he could afford anything in the building but a cigar.
Dallas laughed and then winked. “Maybe I’ll buy him a piece of art.”
Lawrence chuckled, clasping his hands together. “Such a delightful girl you are.” Someone called to him and he briefly turned his head and waved. “Ah, I must go. But I will see you two later. Eric, she’s a keeper.” He smiled benignly at Dallas but again addressed Eric. “But I can see I don’t have to tell you that.”
“Odd character,” Dallas said when Lawrence was out of earshot.
“Yeah, but he grows on you.”
“I didn’t mean odd in a bad way. I love interesting characters. People who don’t fit the stereotype. Or don’t try to mold themselves into an image to meet other people’s expectations. I admire them.” Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Even though he called me a girl.”
Eric said nothing but studied her for a moment. Her expression and voice had changed. Subtly but enough that he noticed. Did people stereotype her? Is that why she was so guarded? Because of her looks, he easily saw how she could be misjudged. Truthfully, he’d pretty much done the same at first. But there was so much more depth to her. He’d only been allowed a glimpse so far, but he sensed the well was deep and he intended to dive in. Immerse himself.
The waiter brought their drinks—scotch for him and merlot for her—and then left to take Lawrence his apple martini. Eric recognized only a couple of people, who were busy talking to someone else, so he didn’t feel as if he had to hang around and make small talk.
“Did you really want to go see the gallery?” he asked. “Or were you just trying to avoid the conversation?”
She smiled and took his hand. “Let’s go see the gallery.”
He followed her like a damn puppy dog. Hell, if she’d wanted to go to Siberia, he would’ve followed.
Like the building, the gallery was larger than it looked from the outside. Still, there were few paintings displayed, along with a ridiculous sculpture of what looked like a worm in the center of the room. As they passed it, he caught a glimpse of the fifty-thousand-dollar price tag and almost spit out his scotch.
She glanced over at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t really want to look at these paintings, do you?”
“I don’t mind—” Chuckling, he shook his head. “Not even if they paid me.”
She grinned. “Want to go back to the party?”
This time he took her hand, and pulled her close. “How about we go back to my place instead?”
Her eyes sparkled with promise. “I thought you’d never ask.”
11
DALLAS MADE A DECISION. IF their relationship lasted for longer than a week, she’d tell him about herself. Everything. Well, not everything, but the stuff he needed to know. The part most important to him. That she wasn’t a model or a socialite or something pretty to put on a pedestal. That she didn’t have a power job and wasn’t on the fast track at some Fortune 500 company.
The admission would probably end the relationship. No, it was an affair. Fantasy, really. But what did she expect? The whole thing started with a gag. For one night. She was the one who’d wanted to draw out the fantasy. Play dress up and pretend. And the sex. Oh, God, she got heated just thinking about the way he touched her, the way they moved together in perfect rhythm.
How did she know she’d actually start feeling something for him? That was the last thing she’d expected to happen. She didn’t go for ambitious exec types. They reminded her too much of her father and brother.
She watched Eric unlock his apartment door, open it, reach inside to turn on a lamp and then stand aside for her to go in first. Yet he wasn’t anything like her father or Cody. She doubted either one of them would give up their precious time to help a struggling Chinese immigrant save his restaurant.
Maybe she was judging Eric too harshly. Maybe what she did for a living wouldn’t matter to him.
“Hey, what are you thinking so hard about?” He pulled her in his arms as soon as they both got over the threshold.
“Uh, are you going to close the door?”
“First things first.” He covered her mouth with his and kissed her so thoroughly, she literally couldn’t breathe.
With a light push to his chest she fell back laughing and gasping at the same time. One of her heels caught in the carpet, and when she missed a step, he caught her arm.
“How do you walk in those things?” He frowned at her black stiletto heels, and then closed the door behind him. “They look great but dangerous.”
“Oh, they’re lethal, all right. I’m lucky I haven’t broken my neck.”
“Why in the hell do women wear them? Not that I’m complaining.”
She shrugged. “It’s the style, I guess. Why do you guys wear baggy pants riding halfway down your butts?”
“Um, excuse me, but I don’t think you’ll ever see me wearing baggy pants riding halfway down my ass.”
She laughed. “Okay, and I don’t think you’ll be seeing me in
stilettos much in the future.”
Shrugging out of his jacket, he reared his head back, feigning horror. “Wait a minute, I hope that’s open for discussion.”
Smiling, she walked farther into the room and dropped her purse on a chair. “It used to be easy when I wore them all the time. Now, I have to admit, looking graceful or at least like I’m not teetering takes some maneuvering.”
He tossed his jacket next to her purse. “What do you usually wear?”
“Boots.”
“In the summer?”
“Yep.”
“I’ve seen some killer heels on women’s boots.”
“Not the kind I wear,” she said, watching him carefully. “Steel-toed work boots.”
He laughed. “Really? Trying to start a new trend?”
“No, they’re practical.” For work, she almost added but stopped herself just in time. Perfect time to tell him. But she just couldn’t do it. Not yet. It would ruin the evening. Ruin everything, probably.
At the end of the week, she promised herself, she’d explain. No, wrong. It wasn’t about an explanation. She owed no such thing to anyone. She’d simply enlighten him. What he chose to do at that point was up to him.
She took a step closer, looking up at him, her smile purposeful as her gaze moved slowly to his mouth. “Why are we wasting time talking about boots?”
That’s all it took. His eyes blazing, he pulled her against him, and just when she expected him to steal her breath away, he gently nibbled on the corner of her mouth and then lightly bit her lower lip. She closed her eyes and let her head loll back. With his tongue he traced her jaw to her earlobe, his touch so feathery light, she wasn’t totally sure she wasn’t imagining it.
“I take it these diamond earrings are real,” he whispered, his warm breath penetrating her skin, and her nipples tightened in response.
“Yes.” A graduation present from her parents, they were ridiculously expensive.
“Then I suggest you take them off.” His tongue swirled around one of the diamonds, his breathing growing ragged. “Take everything off.”
She smiled. “Is that an order?”
His mouth slowly curved against her skin. “It can be.”
“Honey, if we were going to role-play, I’d be the general and you’d be the private.”
“Want me to take my clothes off, ma’am?”
She laughed. “You’re so easy.”
He straightened and smiled at her. “Disgustingly easy, I know.” He cupped her shoulder, wedging his fingers under the slim strap of her dress. Slowly he slid the fabric down and then he did the same with her other strap.
She undid his red silk tie, impatient when she had trouble with the knot, then pulled it from under his collar. He didn’t try to help but just stared at her, the desire in his eyes so potent, it seemed to coat her skin like warm honey clinging to a biscuit.
When she tried to unbutton his shirt, he gently shoved her hands aside and reached around to unzip her dress. He pulled the zipper down halfway and then slipped his hands inside and stroked his palms down her bare skin to the curve of her buttocks.
Shivering, she moved closer so that she barely had room to unbutton his shirt. But she managed to free one button and then another. He massaged her lower back, his chest heavily rising and falling, and for a moment her hands stilled, her mind went blank. She closed her eyes.
Standing in his living room under the soft glow of the dimmed lamp, half undressed, his hands molding her back, was so intoxicating she actually felt light-headed and gripped his forearms.
“Dallas?”
Her lids felt so heavy, it was too much a struggle to lift them.
He moved his hand from her back and then tilted her chin up. “I wish you’d trust me,” he whispered so huskily, it took her a moment to digest his words.
She opened her eyes. The sensual fog immediately lifted. “Why would you say that?”
“I want to keep seeing you.”
She knew where he was going with this but she wasn’t ready for that discussion. “I’d like that.”
He smiled. “I don’t even have your phone number.”
“No?” She undid two more buttons, leaving his shirt hanging open. Placing both hands against his chest, she lowered her head and kissed a spot just above his right nipple.
His body tensed beneath her palms.
“All right.” She touched the tip of her tongue to his budding nipple.
He sucked in a breath. “All right what?”
“I’ll give you my number.”
He moved just out of her reach. “And your last name?”
She pushed the shirt off his shoulder. His cuffs were still buttoned. Before she could unfasten them, he slid her dress down to her waist, leaving her breasts bare.
“What’s your last name, Dallas?” His gaze stayed on her breasts. He touched one pearled nipple with the tip of his finger.
She got a hold of his cuff and slipped the button free. “Why is that so important?”
“Why is it so important to keep it from me?” He lowered his head and touched the same nipple with the tip of his tongue.
She freed the other cuff and pushed his shirt off. It fell to the floor. She went for his buckle, but he pulled away.
He smiled and slid her zipper the rest of the way down. Her dress joined his shirt on the floor, leaving her in nothing but a black thong and the stilettos.
“Answer me,” he said softly, his gaze hungrily taking in her breasts, his nostrils flaring when he got to the small silk triangle at the juncture of her thighs.
Surely he could see her heart pounding. It felt as if it were going to burst through her skin. She held her breath and willed herself to keep from crying out as he cupped the weight of her breasts in each hand, using his thumbs to tease her nipples.
“Dallas?”
She couldn’t blame him for coercing her like this. She’d done the same thing to him trying to avoid the conversation. But it didn’t matter. Not really. Her last name wouldn’t mean anything to him. She wasn’t even listed in the phone book. None of her family was. “It’s Shea.”
“Dallas Shea. I like it.”
He abandoned her breasts to slide his arms around her. Filling his palms with her bottom, his fingers lightly digging into her fleshy cheeks, he drew her against him. The friction of her nipples rubbing his chest hair raised goose bumps on her arms.
“Take off your pants,” she said and kicked off one of her heels.
“Leave them on, okay?” One side of his mouth hiked up. “Just until we get in bed.”
She tried to hold back a smile. “Is that where we’re going?”
“I don’t know. This is pretty thick carpet. Might be interesting to stay right here.”
She slid her foot back into the shoe. No matter how soft the carpet, the idea of rubbing her bare bottom on it held no appeal.
As if he’d read her mind, he ran his palms down her backside. “Although I’d hate to see anything happen to this. Your skin is so incredibly soft. Like a baby’s.”
“The bed totally gets my vote.” She didn’t wait for him but jerked free his buckle.
“Impatient little thing.” Grinning, he undid his buttons and fly.
“Au contraire. I think I’ve been very patient.” She shoved his slacks down his hips, and he took it from there, yanking them off the rest of the way and throwing them in the direction of the couch.
He wore boxers again, his sex straining so hard against the tan silky fabric that she could see the outline of the head. She touched him there, swirling the tip of her finger until he shuddered. He cupped her shoulders as she hooked her fingers in his elastic waistband and drew the boxers down his legs.
On her way down she flicked her tongue across the velvety tip. He jerked, his fingers digging into her shoulders. But she had him trapped and she took her time ridding him of the boxers as she explored him with her tongue.
Moaning, he closed his eyes and threaded his f
ingers through her hair. Bobby pins bounced off her bare shoulders as they fell from the French twist she’d painstakingly created earlier. Her hair fell down her back, and he wove his fingers tighter through the strands as she drew the entire tip into her mouth.
His entire body shuddered. She took in more of him, teasing him with her swirling tongue until she reached the base. He moaned loudly, his fingers digging deeper, more painfully into her skin. With a jerk he pushed her back and then pulled her upright, startling her.
“Eric, what’s—”
He shook his head, his eyes glassy. He couldn’t seem to speak. He guided her backward until she met the couch and gently laid her down. And then not so gently pulled off her thong.
He kissed the top of her foot, worked his way to her knee and then spread her thighs. The reflex to squeeze them together was almost too great, and she balled her fists, closed her eyes and held her breath. Nothing happened for a moment and she knew he was looking at her. There. In the most intimate place.
She opened her eyes just as he lowered his head and kissed her nether lips. Then he spread them and slid his tongue inside. She nearly came off the couch. Realizing she still had her heels on, she struggled to kick them off before she tore the couch.
The movement seemed to arouse him further, and he used his tongue and fingers with such a fever, she knew it would all be over for her in seconds. She fisted his hair, trying to get him to slow down, but he continued, his tongue unrelenting, until the spasms started to rock her body.
Heat seared her and she cried out. Tears seeped from her eyes. She let go of his hair when she realized she was pulling it and then grabbed the armrest behind her head. He reached up to knead her breast, but he wouldn’t stop the sensual assault of his mouth until she shifted her hips and squeezed her thighs together.
Without missing a beat he moved up to her breasts, teasing the nipple of one and then moving to the other and sucking it into his mouth. When he tried to slide his hand between her thighs, she pushed him away.
A Glimpse of Fire Page 11