She tilted her head back, her gaze meeting his. Her lips parted and his heart rate sped up, awareness pulsing through his veins. He raised his hand, cupping the back of her neck in his palm, pulling her closer to him, their mouths millimeters apart.
Teasing him.
Testing him.
He failed and sealed his lips over hers.
Similar to years ago, the kiss was soft, gentle, but now he was a man who knew what he wanted, and the desire to really taste her overwhelmed him. He slid his tongue across her lower lip, eliciting a soft moan that undid him, and his tongue stole past her lips, tangling with hers. He tightened his grip on the back of her neck and lost himself in the warmth of her mouth, the seduction of her kiss.
Time stood still. Their lips melded; his mind focused on the delicious taste of her and the feel of her tongue twined with his. Until the sound of the door opening jarred him back to reality.
She jerked back. He immediately released his hold and met her gaze, unable to stop the smile when he saw her damp lips.
A quick glance down revealed her nipples had beaded into tight points, in complete agreement with his thick erection, tenting his slacks.
The waiter mumbled his apology and began to serve dinner. While he worked, Derek held her gaze, sensual awareness reciprocated in her eyes while a deep flush stained her cheeks. But she didn’t look away.
When the waiter finally departed, Derek cleared his throat and raised his glass, taking a long sip of wine.
“That was … unexpected,” she murmured.
“I’d call it extremely expected. From the first time we met as kids to now. The attraction’s been there.”
“Agreed.” She wrapped a hand around the stem of her glass. “But attraction aside, I have another question. You agreed to the interview. Offered to help me find a place to live. Not to be rude, but why are you being so nice to me?” she asked.
Attraction aside, she’d asked a good question. One for which he had no answer. When tonight was over, he was going to have to take his temperature and figure out what the fuck was wrong with him, that he was rolling over for this woman without her asking for anything in return.
Or maybe that was the reason. She didn’t ask. She was unassuming and sweet, neither of which he’d expected. Not to mention, he wanted her. Badly. The businessman in him recognized that in getting closer, she might also provide him with insight into the company he hadn’t given up on acquiring. That was an bonus.
He raised one shoulder. “I suppose it’s as simple as you need something and I have the ability to help, that’s all,” he said, giving her the simplest answer. One even he could live with. For now.
“Well, thank you again.” A big smile covered her face.
“You’re welcome.”
With the kiss behind them but never out of his mind, they spent the rest of the evening with small talk, but eventually the night ended.
He hailed her a cab and waited alongside her on the sidewalk. They’d already exchanged phone numbers to arrange for her to see apartments over the weekend. He’d have to get in touch with his property manager and get the unit numbers and keys, but that was no problem.
A cab pulled to a stop and Derek opened the door. He slid an arm around her back and pulled her toward him, his gaze meeting hers. “Thanks for having dinner with me,” he said in a gruff voice.
“Thank you for forgiving me.” Her face flushed red that had nothing to do with the winter chill.
Before he could reply, she brushed a kiss over his cheek, turned, and slid into the cab, leaving him aching with desire. And confounded by how she’d defied all his expectations and, in the process, had him going against all his own good intentions.
All because he liked and desired her.
But Cassie wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of woman, and he’d be spending time with her, both helping and getting to know her better, before inevitably falling into bed with the woman he’d once considered his enemy.
As long as he reminded himself that sex was all there could be between them.
She was still Cassie Storms, after all.
Chapter Three
Cassie sat at her desk, her mind on the article she intended to write about Derek. Before Friday night, she’d known nothing about him, had no gut instinct on how to slant the piece. Now she did. Derek West was a decent guy. In fact, she’d been completely caught off guard by how kind he’d been to her.
Not only had he accepted her apology but he’d offered her the two things she needed most. The interview—something he disdained, yet was willing to do for her—and help finding a place to live. She’d go so far as to say they’d put the past behind them as much as possible. She didn’t kid herself. There had been—and would be again—more awkward moments between them. Like when she’d admitted to living in the house he’d grown up in.