right at my suit.
“Cut that out!” I bellow. Damn it, I’ve got an important meeting with a new designer this afternoon. I don’t want to waltz in there smelling like I just made out with someone’s grandmother.
“What’s the matter?” Her eyes flame with challenge, and my cock twitches in response, straining against the fabric of my slacks. “Don’t you like it? It’s very popular.”
“I’m sure it was. Back in the Depression.”
I try to grab the bottle from her, but she quickly drops it into her purse and clutches it to her chest. I start to reach for it, then drop my hand.
A crazy scene flashes through my head. I imagine us wrestling for the bottle. Her dropping the purse, my lips pressing against hers… She’d taste like heat and light and sweet coffee… Blood rushes to my groin.
The cab turns the corner, lurching slightly.
“You’re making me late,” she says, a note of panic creeping into her voice.
“Sorry. If you hadn’t jumped in the cab, you could have gotten one of your own by now.” I glance out the window at the streams of traffic. Hailing a cab during rush hour is a bitch. “Maybe. I’d invite you to lunch to make up for the inconvenience, but I don’t have time today. Or tomorrow. How about later this week?”
Did my mouth just say that? Did I just ask Mayor McBossy out on a date? No, no, not a date. I’m inviting her to participate in peace talks. Nico’s opening a new place, he’s going to need all the neighborhood goodwill he can get.
“Seriously?” she scoffs. “You’d honor me by letting me dine in your presence?”
“Oh, the honor would be all mine. And we’d both be eating. I wouldn’t just be sitting there staring at you like some weirdo.” I dial down the smugness and flash her a smile. “So, are you free? What about day after tomorrow? I could make time around noon.”
I’m actually not free day after tomorrow, but I would make an incredibly rare exception for her and reschedule my luncheon meeting.
“Why would you want to go to lunch with me?” she asks suspiciously.
“So we can bury the hatchet.”
Some small, rational part of my brain is yelling, “What the hell are you doing?” but the words are drowned out by the blood thundering in my ears as it rushes south.
She narrows her eyes. “I know where I’d like to bury a hatchet.” She reaches into her purse with both hands. This is probably bad news for me.
I lean over to try to look into the purse. She moves it away from me.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
She meets my gaze boldly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, that’s why I asked, Angry Orphan Annie,” I say drily.
“Angry Orphan Annie?” She pulls the perfume bottle from her purse and brandishes it at me. She’s unscrewed the top.
“Don’t you dare!” I snap at her. She looks me right in the eye and dumps it directly onto my lap, soaking my pants and splashing my jacket. Instantly, the interior of the cab is filled with a suffocating, thick cloud of sweetness. Henry starts coughing again, and he’s barely even hiding the fact that he’s laughing.
“What the hell!” My roar of fury is echoed by a squawk of outrage from the driver.
The cab is slowly rolling to a stop at a traffic light. She has the nerve to wink at me. “A little something to remember me by.”
With that, Winona flings open the door and leaps nimbly from the cab.
Chapter Four
Blake
Rolling down the cab windows doesn’t help. Stripping off my jacket doesn’t help. And Henry doesn’t bother hiding a small smile of satisfaction as he calls his assistant Shanice – yes, I’m so damn busy my assistant needs an assistant – to tell her to have a new suit waiting for me when I get back to the office.
Because this is mostly my fault, I give the cab driver an extremely generous tip to cover the cost of getting his car detailed, and also the fares he’ll be losing while he’s waiting to get it de-stenched.
We make it to LaGuardia right as my sister’s plane is landing. Henry had already arranged for another driver to meet us at the airport, so we won’t have to cab it back. At least he’s good for something beyond low-level sabotage and reproachful glances.
The airport is ablaze with noise and distraction, crammed with gawking tourists and impatient locals. Today, they all have one thing in common. Every single