Shattered (Anderson Special Ops #4) - Melody Anne Page 0,43

She was left with little choice other than accept the intimate maneuver. She allowed him to slip the fork inside her mouth and she closed her lips over the fork. When he pulled back, their eyes met as she licked the sauce from her lips. Heat filled his gaze, and it was several pulsing seconds before she looked down.

“It’s good,” she said, her voice a bit too husky. She’d never make it through this meal if he continued feeding her. “How’s work going?” Amira asked, trying to get the conversation going again. This restaurant was a disaster. It would be perfect if she were in a romantic relationship. It wasn’t so perfect when she was there with a man she couldn’t stop thinking about being naked with. The environment screamed a lead up to sex.

“I love working with the men I’m teamed with. They’re great, make me laugh every single day, and there’s always an adventure around every corner. I don’t see myself growing bored for a while. What about you?” he asked. He seemed genuinely interested which surprised her.

“I love my job too,” she told him. “I work with incredible people who want to help the patients and who do really well as a team. That’s unusual in the medical field. It’s such a competitive arena that a lot of times the doctors have no problem stepping all over each other to get to the top. I’m not finding that problem at this place. I know I won’t stay. I have a need to travel, to go to new places, and to always push myself to be more, to be better. I want to learn everything I can and help as many people as possible.”

Smoke smiled as they continued eating. “I’ve always felt the same. So many people want to settle down and plant roots. There’s so much adventure out there, how can we see it from one place?”

It was killing Amira to learn more about Smoke. If she were to make a list of everything she liked in a man, he’d have all of the qualities and so many more she hadn’t even thought of as important. Knowing that, it didn’t change the fact that he was a player, and she knew better than to fall for players. She’s seen what had happened to her friends when they’d done that. It had left them heartbroken, a condition Amira never wanted to be in.

“My parents moved to Southern California when I was a toddler, and they haven’t left since. They travel to both Japan, where my father’s parents still live, though I’m not super close to them, and to the Netherlands, where my mother’s from, but they love California, and they adore the lifestyle of their neighborhood.” She cringed.

“You said they are pretty wealthy,” he said as if it was no big deal. She was shocked. To so many wealth was a great appeal. Yes, she wanted money to live comfortably, but money didn’t define her.

Amira laughed. “Wealthy doesn’t even begin to describe them. I had the best education, the best nannies, and the best of every material thing you could think of. But money truly doesn’t buy happiness. I was lonely a lot,” she admitted. “I know, I know, poor little rich girl, but when you grow up with that kind of money you can’t trust anyone loves you for you.”

He tilted his head and looked at her for a moment as if contemplating what she was saying. “I can see that. I had some hard times growing up as poor as we were. But I’m grateful for it, because it gave me a drive to work hard, and I have an incredible relationship with my mother to this day. I’d give up material things any day for real love and security.”

“Yeah, my parents live in Corona Del Mar, California on Cameo Shores,” she said, knowing she sounded embarrassed. She was. Some might find it odd to be embarrassed over your parents owning a thirty-million-dollar home, but she’d much rather they lived in a perfectly sweet middle-class neighborhood where she wasn’t afraid of what people would think when she took them home with her.

“The most famous home in their ritzy neighborhood, Portabello Estate mansion, was nationally advertised as the premier oceanfront property on Brighton Road. It came on the market for seventy-five million.”

“Whoa,” Smoke said with a laugh. “I can’t say I’d ever be comfortable spending even thirty mil on a house. The Anderson mansion has to be