No Ordinary Gentleman

“I’m not sure I do know.”

“That he’d be . . .” Here we go again. “That you’d be . . .”

“I am not,” he replies emphatically.

“No, I know you’re not that way inclined, but you must get hit on all of the time.”

His answer is a disdaining lift of one brow.

“This can’t be the first time you were hit on by a man,” I bluster.

“It’s the first time I’ve been offered up as bait.”

“Oh, Lord. If only you knew.” I chuckle, my gaze on my shoes. “Your assumed sexuality was supposed to protect you. It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

When he doesn’t reply, I look up.

“I wonder if Wednesday at . . .” As he twists his wrist and glances down at his watch, something flares between my legs. “Twelve minutes past nine is a more suitable time for you?”

“Suitable?” I swallow—it’s a thirsty little motion as I try to tell myself I cannot be turned on by his wrists and his hands—before dragging my eyes back to his again.

“Was it the afternoon hour that offended your sensibilities? You said yourself that Wednesday is hump day.”

I’d lay a hundred dollars on this being the first time he’s ever said hump, even if he annunciates it very well.

“Are you asking if I’d be interested in a threesome?” I just want to see what I can get away with doesn’t extend to this.

“I’m merely passing on the invitation issued to me. By Lewis.”

“Even though we’re cousins?” My words sound like they should accompany the clutching of pearls, though the look he shoots me in return suggests we’re not fooling anyone. Shows what he knows. We fooled Nikki. We fooled her good. Lewis, on the other hand, I can’t be sure.

“Twice in one day. I should think that’s something of a record.”

“One I didn’t ask for!”

He smiles so freely at my protest that something sweet and sticky rolls right through me.

“Lewis seemed to think you’d be interested. Your gaze did seem to flick his way often.”

Asshole. He knows I wasn’t looking at Lewis. I was looking at him.

“Maybe I was admiring his tattoos.”

“You’re a fan of body art?”

“I guess you’re not.”

His gaze doesn’t alter, watching me steadily as though daring me to ask. But I’m not asking because, just look at him! He’s so pristine and so perfect. He can’t even lounge against a wall properly, never mind cover his impeccable self with ink.

“No.” I narrow my eyes. I know I’m right. “You’re not the type.”

“No?” A smile fights to break out though he masters it, the bare flicker of amusement doing something strange to my insides. “Well, you would need to offer me more than a pink cocktail if you want to find out.”

I find I’m grateful for the poor overhead lighting as my cheeks instantly heat, grasping to turn the conversation away from me.

“You know I have no interest in Lewis. So maybe this is more about you.” I almost cringe as I hear my not so confident response. I didn’t mean Lewis. I meant while he watched me dance with Nikki. But my unease is unfounded by his low-voiced announcement.

“I have no plans whatsoever that involve sharing you.”

So much for seizing the moment—seizing him—tripping a bitch to make the man mine because the man has other plans.

Like making me his.

And I see that now. See the subtle ways he took control. The whisky and the server, the way he held my wrist.

His gaze pins me to the wall as a current leaps in the air between us, white hot and electric. It feels powerful. And daring. Like it would only take for one of us to reach out, and the whole world would explode. Despite the tension, when my reply falls out of my mouth, I’m surprised at how casual the words sound.

“Is this some kind of a weird come-on, Lyle?”

“It’s Alexander.” There’s a warning in his tone as he steps away from the wall, his gaze sweeping over me like a caress and sending a tingle down my spine. Pleasure yes, but also warning. “And that wasn’t a come on. This is.”

His big hands find my shoulders, one slipping around to cup my neck as he slants his mouth over mine. Maybe the world didn’t explode, but the moment is potent, and the first brush of his lips almost elemental. And I know I’m not alone in this as he pulls back just a little, almost as though to study me. A silent did you feel that, too?

“Kiss me again,” I whisper hoarsely, my fingers tightening on his wide shoulders as though to prevent an escape.

“You’re bossy for someone so small.” His thick lashes cast a dark shadow against his skin as his gaze dips to my lips, and I find I’m not the only one smiling into our next kiss.