little irresistible. “My father, Max, has money. I use it when I need it.”
“This is his plane?”
“No, Sasha.”
She nods. She’s a Company girl. She will figure me out very quickly. So I have two choices. Lie or tell the truth.
Only one of those is an option.
“No, it belongs to his company.”
“The FBI owns a luxury jet?”
“Let’s talk about kissing.”
“What?” She laughs. “Kissing?”
I smile with her, both at her willingness to drop the topic of money and her pleasure at the new one. “Specifically, the kisses we’ve shared.”
“We haven’t shared any kisses, Agent Jax.” But she says it with a sly grin as she lifts the glass of Tokay and takes a sip. I watch her throat as she swallows and then wish I could lick the sheen of sugar left over on her lips before her tongue darts out to swipe it away.
I scoot closer to her on the curve of the bench and while she remains seated in her spot, her upper body instinctively pulls back from my approach. “You liked it though.”
“I didn’t, actually,” she says. Her pupils are dilating before my eyes, and her breathing picks up a notch.
“You did, Sasha.” I reach out and pick up her hair, feeling the softness of her golden locks between my fingers. “But I took you by surprise, so you didn’t have a chance to realize that. Most dates end with a kiss. And since we’re almost to our destination, maybe we could try again?”
“And end the date before we eat dessert?” She cocks an eyebrow at me.
It doesn’t matter what she says at this point. The invitation is hanging in the air between us. She can tell me no, if she wants. But she knows I’m going to try, so she stays quiet.
That’s the only opening I need.
I lift up a dessert spoon, holding it up before her. “Which dessert would you like then? Ice cream?”
Her eyes sweep the presentation before her. “It all looks pretty good. Which is your favorite?”
“You,” comes out automatically. In my head I cringe.
“Oh my God.” She laughs. But she picks up a spoon as well, and scoops up some strawberry ice cream from the sundae. “I can’t decide if you’re serious or not.”
“About what?” I’m truly confused.
“Are you a slick FBI agent?” she says, sliding the ice cream into her mouth. She licks her lips and says, “Mmmm.” I have an urge to fist her hair and kiss her hard right now with that move. But I’m gonna make her beg for the next one. “Or are you some well-mannered gentleman? Because you’re quite a contradiction, Jax.”
“As are you, Sasha.”
“Yeah, but you’re playing a game with me tonight. Give and get. Push and pull. So which one of us is giving and which one of us is getting? Who is pushing and who is pulling?”
“Does it matter?” My fingertips get the better of my judgment and stroke her lightly on the cheek. “If we both get what we want in the end?”
“I guess that depends on what we each want.”
“You want me and I want you.”
“You are the definition of player, Jax. How do people trust you?”
I want to laugh with her, but not yet. So I make another move. “I’m confused.”
“You’re not at all confused. You’re secretly giggling inside like a little girl. Do you want me for dessert, Jax?”
“Fuck, yes.”
She looks down to hide her blush.
“OK,” I say, pulling my hand back. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. This is business. I need you. But it’s my pleasure to have dinner with you tonight. I kissed you this morning because you are a beautiful woman and it just felt right. I kissed you tonight because you were sad and I wanted to wipe that frown off your face. And I’m going to kiss you again, even though you threatened to break all my fingers. I’ll take my chances. Because my window of opportunity with you is short. You could end this night at any time. And if you walk out I will spend months—years, possibly the rest of my life—wondering what could have been. I won’t let that happen. I won’t let you ruin me and drive me mad with desire—”
She laughs at my declaration, beaming a smile. “Where do you get this shit?”
“You’re not buying my heartfelt proclamation of love?”
“No,” she giggles. “You’re so full of it. But it’s good stuff, Jax. Do you read Harlequin novels? Do you like the damsel in distress?”
“Oh,” I sigh. “I very much do.