Storming Whitehorn - By Christine Scott Page 0,15
just about ready to bring out the pies—”
“We’ve changed our mind,” he said, refusing to look at Jasmine for her reaction. “You can add the cost to the bill, but we won’t be staying to eat them.”
The waitress heaved a tired sigh and shook her head. “Yes, sir, whatever you want.”
Flipping through her receipt book, she totaled up the cost of dinner and handed him the check. Without looking at the amount, Storm handed her his credit card, not wishing to delay his departure a minute longer than necessary.
Raising a brow, the waitress said, “I’ll run this through the machine. Be back in a jiffy.”
With that, he was alone once again with Jasmine. And he realized he could no longer avoid what must be done. Once and for all he must make it clear to her that there was no possibility of a relationship between them. There were too many obstacles standing in their way.
Whatever means he must take, it was Jasmine’s turn to be scared away.
Leaning forward in his chair, keeping his tone confidential, he said, “I’d be careful what I ask for if I were you. You might not want to know the answer.”
A slow smile stole across her beautiful, exotic face. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, my dear Jasmine, that you are just a child,” he said, keeping his voice smooth and silky, like a caress. “And I am a man of many, many experiences. The kiss that we shared was nothing compared to the things I know to please a woman. And you, little one, are nowhere near ready to handle what I can do for you.”
The smile faded. Her lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise. She looked…stunned.
Satisfied, Storm rose to his feet. Tipping his hand in mock salute, he turned and left, not daring to glance back at the woman he was leaving behind, lest he changed his mind.
Her mouth still drooping in surprise, Jasmine stared after Storm’s departing figure. He moved through the crowded restaurant with the primal grace of a predator. With his wide shoulders and narrow hips, he reminded her of a sleek mountain cat, coiled and ready to spring into attack.
Suddenly the room felt as though the heat had been cranked up by at least twenty degrees. Feeling flushed, on a shaky breath, she murmured, “Oh, my.”
The waitress chose that moment to return. She glanced at Storm’s empty chair. “What happened to tall, dark and in-a-hurry?”
Jasmine’s face warmed with embarrassment. “He had to leave.”
“What am I supposed to do with his credit card?” She held up the gold card for Jasmine’s inspection. Its shiny surface glittered beneath the muted lights of the restaurant.
The slow smile returned. Jasmine told herself he may be cool and collected on the outside, but Storm Hunter wasn’t as in control of his emotions as he’d like for her to believe. She held out a hand for the forgotten card. “I’ll take that.”
The waitress frowned, looking uncertain. “I don’t know. The restaurant policy is—”
“Mr. Hunter and I are close friends, practically family,” she assured her, giving the woman what she hoped was a most sincere look. “His niece is my cousin.”
“Family, huh?” the waitress asked, her gaze skeptical.
Jasmine nodded. “Family.”
“Well, okay.” Reluctantly, she handed Jasmine the card. “The bill’s still going on his account, with or without his signature.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that. Just as soon as I see him again.”
Anxious to leave, Jasmine scooted her chair back. Her legs felt wobbly as she stood. The sound of her heart pounded so hard in her ears, she could barely hear the voices of the restaurant patrons around her. Gathering her sweater, she hurried for the exit.
Storm was a man who obviously had pressing things weighing on his mind, proof of which was resting in her hand. She hadn’t bought his Casanova routine. Beneath that cool exterior, she sensed there was a man with deep emotions just waiting to be tapped.
It was time she found out if she was right.
Chapter Four
Jasmine’s heels clicked against the concrete floor, echoing in the quiet night, sounding much too loud in the walkway of the dimly lit hotel. Her stomach fluttered with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. Thanks to the help of a former class mate working the front desk, she’d learned the room where Storm was staying. Now she just needed the courage to follow through with her decision to find him.
Shakily she inhaled a calming breath. Never before had she had the