A Powerful Attraction

“Dinner’s on me,” Alex said, fishing out his wallet.

“Absolutely not.”

“And why not?”

“Because it’s inappropriate.”

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t be saddled with my meal, Alex.”

“I invited myself to join you, remember? And I don’t mind.”

“Let me pay for my own dinner.”

“No.”

“The tip, then?”

“No. If it makes you feel better, consider this a business dinner. I’ll add it to my expense report. After all, we did spend some talking about work.” He called over the waiter, who approached and placed the bill on the table. Alex perused the items. Satisfied, he handed over the card with the bill.

Sherry bit the bottom corner of her lip, holding the scarlet-tinged flesh hostage between her teeth—which he longed to do himself. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“I’m not going to keep arguing with you, Sherry.”

“Fine. I won’t argue, but since you bought dinner, the least I can do is buy dessert.”

“Dessert?” Alex looked around at the empty restaurant. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”

“Not really. There are places still open. We can go somewhere and listen to music and have dessert.” She spoke with a certain amount of hesitation. “Unless you have a curfew…?”

Alex laughed softly. “No, I don’t have a curfew.”

“Then dessert is on me.”

He studied her for a moment. She obviously wanted to spend more time with him, and he wanted to spend more time with her, but it wasn’t a good idea. He couldn’t risk getting involved with Sherry, and the burden of resisting the temptation she presented ate at him.

“I’ll have to pass.”

“Are you turning me down?” she asked with a little laugh.

“It’s late,” he said, by way of explanation.

“Late. Oh. So you do have a curfew, or maybe someone waiting at home for you?”

“I don’t have anyone waiting at home for me,” he said quietly.

“I see.”

Her lips firmed, and he knew right away that he’d upset her. All the progress they’d made in the past few hours disappeared. Shit.

“Sherry—”

“No, it’s fine. Believe me.” She tucked her phone into her purse.

“Sherry.” He covered her hand, and when she tried to withdraw, he tightened his hold. All night he’d fought the urge to touch her. Just reach across the table and hold her hand or press her palm to his mouth. Now that he had, his insides tightened with the enormity of the moment. And how much he wanted this woman—needed her on a level he couldn’t comprehend. “This isn’t a rejection of you.”

“You must have misunderstood, Alex. There was nothing on offer except music and dessert. You have to go home, fine. As far as I’m concerned, the night is still young, and I’m going to enjoy myself, by myself.” She pulled away her hand.

His fist tightened on the table. “What does that mean?”

She didn’t get to answer because the waiter brought back the credit card receipt right then.

“Thank you for joining us for dinner this evening. Good night to both of you.” The young man left.

Sherry stood abruptly from the table, and Alex swiftly signed the receipt and followed after her, admiring her graceful, angry movements in a pair of stilettos that showed off gorgeous legs covered in black silk stockings.

The manager stood at the door and bade them a good night before letting them out and locking the door behind them.

“Which one is yours?” Alex asked.

“I didn’t drive. I’ll just call a cab.”

“I can give you a ride. I’m in the Porsche.” He angled his chin toward the black vehicle in the middle of the mostly empty lot.

She turned away from him. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I found my way here. I’ll find my way to the next destination.”

“Where are you going?”

In short order, he’d become territorial, wanting to keep her to himself. The way she was dressed, she would have no problem getting attention from any number of men, and the thought of her giving her digits to one of them and embarking on a new relationship damn near gave him an ulcer.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.

“What the hell is your problem?” Alex snapped.

She turned on him with wide eyes. “What the hell is yours? You turned me down, and now you want to find out my itinerary? Whatever I decide to do after I leave here is my business, just like whatever you decide to do after you leave is your business. I only wanted us to go somewhere and have dessert and listen to music. I enjoyed your company and wanted to spend more time talking to you. That’s it.”

“That’s it? That’s all you wanted?”

“What else is there?”

“Don’t pretend with me.”

“I’m not pretending! Whatever you think I—”

He laughed softly, bitterly. Maybe they’d spent too much time together. Maybe he’d had too much to drink. But a sudden recklessness invaded his thoughts, and words that he would never think to say otherwise spilled from his mouth.

“You’re terrible at pretending, you know that?” Every bit of banked frustration that had accumulated over the past couple of years beat down on him with relentless force. “Every day I look into those pretty brown eyes, and I see how much you want me. And you have no goddamn idea how hard it is to resist you.”

Her lips parted, as if she were about to say something, and then she swallowed. “I…I don’t—”

“Don’t deny it,” Alex growled. “Don’t you f*cking deny it. We both know that cake and ice cream wasn’t the only thing on offer tonight. I can’t stop thinking about f*cking you, and if you think about it even half as much as I do, that’s pretty damn frequent.”

Sherry seemed at a loss for words. Hell, he was at a loss for words. He hadn’t anticipated admitting any of that when he started talking. Maybe he had drunk too much. Or maybe he was tired of fighting these feelings that tortured him day after day, his break coming—minor though it was—when he left the office and didn’t have to see her until the next morning.

“Okay, you want the truth.” Her voice trembled, and she tilted her chin higher, looking boldly into his eyes. “I admit it. I want you too. I want to screw your brains out, and it makes me testy and edgy all day, every day. And I have to remind myself to be nice to my customers and polite to my coworkers because it isn’t their fault that I find you attractive and wish that, just once, you would give a clear signal that you feel the same. Satisfied? So now what, Alex? I’m about to crawl out of my skin, and we’ve both admitted what we feel, but the ball’s in your court now. What are you going to do about it?”