The Man Ban - Nicola Marsh Page 0,36
mouth, and damned if he didn’t want to take her here and now. Her tongue tangled with his, hot and sinuous, and he throbbed with wanting her.
Her fingers tunneled through his hair, tugging, until his scalp tingled. He pressed against her, exactly where he wanted to be as she writhed and whimpered a little. So hot . . . screw the picnic . . .
He wrenched his mouth from hers, his ragged breathing matching hers. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered, giving a shake of his head. Yeah, like that would clear it.
“We should go upstairs—”
“No. Picnic first,” he muttered, knowing he’d regret this for the next few hours when he sat through the torturous process of putting food into her mouth while battling a distinct case of blue balls. “You deserve to be treated right.”
Confusion clouded her eyes. “I want you, Manny. I don’t need all the fancy trappings.”
“This isn’t a fancy date, it’s low-key, and I want to spend some quality time with you.”
The confusion cleared, replaced by amusement. “You sure you’re not a woman trapped in a man’s body?”
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Besides, the faster we eat, the faster you get to discover that my body is definitely all man.”
She fell into step without having to be asked again.
* * *
• • •
“You did good, Manish Gomes.” Harper raised a plastic champagne flute. “To the most romantic date I’ve ever had.”
“To the most beautiful woman I’ve ever dated.” He tapped his flute against hers before taking a sip. Champagne wasn’t his drink of choice but he thought she’d like it, and he’d bought the most expensive bottle in the small liquor store.
“You don’t have to lay it on too thick,” she said, with a smile. “I bet you’ve cut a swath through Melbourne and beyond.”
“I’ve dated a lot, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but you’re gorgeous, you’re a doctor, you’re half-Indian, and that means your gran is probably pushing you to get hitched. So why are you still single at forty?”
“Eat your quince paste and Camembert,” he said, shoving a cracker into her hand.
“All the food in the world isn’t going to distract me.” She popped the cracker into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “If you don’t answer me, I’ll be forced to come up with a few answers of my own.”
“Such as?”
“You’re lousy in bed.”
He almost choked on the grape he’d eaten. “That’s not the reason.”
“How would you know? Maybe those countless women you’ve dated haven’t wanted to post online reviews?” She giggled, and the sound shot straight to his heart. “Or maybe they did and the news spread, hence your single status.”
He mock growled. “Keep this up and you won’t get to discover the Manny magic for yourself.”
She burst out laughing. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Neither can I.” Sheepish, he swiped a hand over his face. “Your fault. You completely discombobulate me.”
“Discom what?”
“Bamboozle. Confuse. Drive me crazy—”
“I know what discombobulate means, but it’s fun to watch you squirm.”
“Bet I can make you squirm in a completely different way . . .” He touched her cheek, tracing the curve of it with a fingertip, along her jaw, and lower, to where her pulse beat crazily in her neck.
“You’ve made your point,” she murmured, her breath hitching. “And if you’re so keen for me to give you a review, we better hurry up and eat this feast.”
He laughed and lowered his hand, not surprised to find it shaking a tad. She had that effect on him, and anytime he touched her he wanted more.
“So you like the food?”
“It’s fantastic.” She smacked her lips as she scooped up a dollop of beetroot dip on a gourmet cracker. “And the view isn’t bad either.”
She stared out over the lake, its still surface reflecting the stunning mauve, indigo, and pink sky as the sun set. He’d stumbled across this spot while driving earlier today, a small, secluded sandy beach with a vista to the town and beyond. A jetty jutted out into the lake and was probably used by locals in dinghies, but for now they had the place to themselves.
“This is surreal . . .” She gave a little shake of her head. “I haven’t dated in a long time, and when I came to New Zealand to work, never in a million years did I dream I’d be sitting here with you.”
“Would you have responded to my text back in Australia if we hadn’t