LEAD ME ON by Julie Ortolon (find a book to read TXT) 📕

He made a noncommittal sound.

“You’re right, though,” she said. “I’d feel awkward being with you at the inn. Maybe we should say this is only for tonight. Tomorrow, when we go back to Pearl Island, we’ll return to being innkeeper and guest, nothing more.”

“One night?” He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “That’s not much of an affair.”

“I just think it would be best. Seeing each other as lovers for a solid month could be emotionally dangerous. Don’t you think?”

He didn’t appear too happy, but sighed in resignation. “Very well. One night it is.”

The waiter arrived to take their order.

“Appetizer?” Scott asked her.

“Yes. An appetizer would be lovely.” She set her menu down and folded her hands in her lap. Beside her, Scott smoothed his beard, but she still saw the smile he was trying to hide at her prim manner. Did it really turn him on? Or had he been making fun of her?

“We’ll have the spinach and artichoke dip,” he said, then glanced over the wine list before turning back to her. “Will you be ordering steak or seafood for dinner?”

“I haven’t decided.”

He picked a Chardonnay, claiming it went with anything. “Besides,” he told Allison when the waiter was gone, “red wine makes me sleepy. If we’re only going to have one night, I don’t want to waste it.”

Nerves skittered deep in her belly, even as arousal sent out a flush of heat.

The waiter returned with the wine and Scott went through the ritual of tasting, then nodded his approval. He watched Allison closely as she took her first sip and wondered if she could even taste it, she was so nervous. Leaning back in his chair, he studied her over the rim of his wine glass. She sat perched in her chair, back ramrod-straight, legs crossed tightly at the ankles with her feet tucked under the chair. He figured if he made one wrong move, she’d bolt.

Except, she’d said she wanted this. And so did he. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on just sitting next to a woman watching her play with the stem of her wine glass. Her delicate hands looked perfectly suited for serving tea in those fancy porcelain cups she sold in her gift shop. But all he could think of was getting those hands on his body.

If she bolted at the last minute, he’d probably keel over from frustration.

By the time their appetizer arrived, he decided he could do one of three things: call the whole thing off and take her home; talk about something neutral to help her relax; or... he could seduce her with words until she was equally eager to go upstairs. He was good with words. He knew their power to stir thought, emotion, physical response.

His eyelids lowered as he watched her nibble at a tortilla chip with a scant amount of spinach dip. Taking a chip, he trailed it through the dip. “Here,” he said, leaning toward her. “Some things are better when you indulge all the way.”

She jumped slightly, then started to take the chip from him.

“Naw-ah.” He pulled it back. “Trust me. Now open wide.”

Her gaze met his as she opened her mouth. Oh, sweetheart, you do take direction well. His groin tightened as he placed the chip on her tongue and watched her lips close about it.

“You know,” he said, holding her gaze. “There are reasons men like to take women out to dinner.”

She blushed and swallowed. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m normally better at making conversation. I’m just... nervous.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “No. I wasn’t talking about conversation. I was talking about... anticipation.”

Her eyes widened.

“You see”—he leaned in close—“while we sit here looking very proper and dignified, the well-dressed couple out on a civilized date, I’m visualizing all the things I plan to do to you the second I get you upstairs.”

She dropped her gaze, and stared at the table so hard, he expected the linens to burst into flames. Okay, maybe a verbal seduction wasn’t such a good idea. Instead of exciting her, he might frighten her off. But if she were going to change her mind, he’d rather she do it before he had her in bed.

He rested one elbow on the table as he swirled the wine in his glass. The position brought his mouth close enough to her ear for him to talk softly. “I’ve always had a very vivid imagination. Do you want to know what I’m imagining right now?”

She sat perfectly still, but her breathing turned fast and shallow.

“I’m imagining how much I’m going to enjoy peeling that little black dress off your very nice body to discover what you have on underneath.” He took a sip, savoring the oaky flavor. “My guess is something white and virginal, with lots of lace and a tiny pink bow between your breasts.”

She nearly stopped breathing altogether and her gaze remained fixed on the table. Well, he supposed that was answer enough. She definitely was not up to this. He set his wine down as disappointment settled over him. At this rate, he might as well drive her home as soon as their meal was over.

She whispered something very low that sounded like the word “lavender.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, not even sure she’d spoken.

“My underwear. It isn’t white.” Her lashes lifted revealing dilated eyes. “It’s lavender. With black lace.”

A punch of desire hit him low and hard. “Describe it.”

She took a shaky breath. “The bra is ... mostly lace, but with some satin. I’ve always enjoyed ...”

“Yes?” he prompted.

She reached for her wine glass and took a deep sip. “I’ve always enjoyed the way satin feels. Like ... decadence.”

He shifted to accommodate his arousal as he imagined the cool, smooth fabric beneath his fingertips. “Are your panties satin?”

She nodded. “They’re cut high on the leg, and have lace insets on the sides.”

Oh man. He took a slow breath to keep from pulling her