a glass of wine,” she told him. “But just one. I’m leaving at seven a.m., and I still have to pack”
Once they were in the living room of his suite, he slipped out of his blazer and reached for the bottle of white wine on top of the mini bar. Without the jacket, she could see how fit he was, and imagine how muscular he must be under his shirt. She felt a fresh rush of desire flood through her.
“Let me get some ice to keep the wine chilled,” he said, grabbing the bucket that had been provided.
As soon as the door closed behind him, she let her gaze run over the room. Nice to have a suite, she thought. The bedroom door was closed and he hadn’t left much in the living area, just a few items on the desk. She stepped closer. An iPad in a leather case. A slightly rumpled New York Times perched on the edge. A Moleskine notebook, closed. And a Mont Blanc pen.
She plucked up the pen and with the other hand fished around in her purse for her own Mont Blanc. It had been a gift from her father, a way, he’d told her, to say he was sorry for everything, though no apology had ever been necessary.
The pens were identical, she saw. Black and gold fountain pens. Maybe that was a sign of something, she told herself.
And then, she heard footsteps outside the door. Startled, she dropped her purse and one of the pens on the floor. She quickly scooped up both items, and as she did, her elbow knocked the newspaper off the desk as well. She went into scramble mode, and she’d just managed to put everything back in place when she heard the key turn in the lock. That would have been nice, she thought—caught snooping.
Back in the room, Matt opened the wine, poured them each a glass, and crossed to her. After handing her the wine, he didn’t step back. He was standing so near, she could feel the heat from his body.
He took her free hand and pulled her to him. Then, he leaned down, his gorgeous mouth nearly touching hers. She closed the gap and kissed him.
His lips were both soft and firm and when he pulled away a moment later, she already felt hungry for more.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I first set eyes on you,” he said.
“In that shop in town?”
“No, when you accosted me on my way out of breakfast. Maybe even when you came around the corner earlier, while I was on the phone.”
“You’re not thinking I’m a stalker, are you?” she teased.
“If you are, I don’t care.”
He set his wineglass down and kissed her again, more urgently this time, cupping her face with one hand. She accepted his tongue as he slid it into her mouth, savoring the taste of it. Suddenly, he was pressing his body deeply into hers and running a hand along the outside of her halter, just grazing her breast. After a few moments, he pulled back and ran his eyes over her face.
“I’d love to go to bed with you, Kit,” he said.
Ah, they’d arrived at that point much faster than she’d predicted. And yet, she found herself definitely entertaining the idea. Not her usual M.O., for sure, but her body seemed to have its own agenda tonight.
“That’s a very interesting proposition,” she said, still deliberating.
“But I also need to be perfectly honest with you,” he said, before she could answer. “If we go to bed, there’s no way—at least right now—that I could take things beyond tonight, even with us both living in New York.”
“Are you saying there’s someone serious in your life?” That would be a deal-breaker for sure. She would even regret the dinner.
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s no one. I haven’t had a girlfriend since I broke up with a woman nine months ago. We were pretty serious but she ended up too homesick for Melbourne to stay in the States.”
“I take it then that you’re up for only casual dalliances these days,” she said, looking him in the eye. “No strings attached.”
“Yes.” His expression turned serious, almost grave. “But it’s a little more complicated than that, than me not feeling ready. I’m very attracted to you, Kit. But there’s a problem I need to turn all my attention to in the next weeks—even months. It’s going to consume most of my time and my energy.”
So there’d be