When Staci Takes Charge (Leave Your Shoes On 2)

“Sure. Lay it on me.”

And boy did he…

“How about dinner in Paris on Valentine’s Day?”

Chapter Fourteen

Staci shifted between his legs and turned to glare at him.

Actually glared at him.

Evan asked, “Did I say something wrong?”

She set aside her glass and got out of the tub. Evan was temporarily sidetracked as he took in every naked inch of her. She crossed to the glass-enclosed shower and rinsed off the bubbles. Then she reached for a towel and wrapped it around her, tucking the end into the valley between her breasts.

He sighed. “You covered up a little too fast there, sweetheart. Next time, a few more moments for me to ogle you would be greatly appreciated.”

“Evan.” The glare continued.

Uh-oh. “Not Ev?”

She planted a hand on her hip. “You want to have dinner with me in the most romantic city in the world on the most romantic night of the year?”

“Dare I simply say…‘yes’?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. He could tell she was fighting a grin or a smirk.

“Come on, Staci. You’re surprised?”

She gaped. Her eyes seemed to dance in their sockets. She didn’t appear to have a sassy answer to his question.

So he stood and reached for the shower attachment hanging on the wall and rinsed off while she formed one.

He stepped out of the tub and wound a towel around his waist.

Since she still hadn’t found her voice, Evan said, “Let’s face a few facts here. We sparked at three a.m. in Baltimore. We sparked even when I thought you’d played me and you thought I was a pompous ass. Then today…tonight…right now…” He lifted his hands in the air and said, “There’s something serious happening between us, sweetheart. Can you deny it?”

“I-I—” Her lips pressed together.

He continued. “Neither of us has been interested in relationships and yet, you have to admit, we’re in one now. Am I wrong?”

“I—Jesus.” She shook her head and shook out her hands, as though anxiety gripped her.

Evan crossed to where she stood and gently clasped her upper arms to steady her. “We jumped in with both feet this evening, yes. But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

She gave another shake of her head.

“So let’s do this, Staci. Let’s spend some serious time together. Go with me to Santa Barbara. Let me take you to Paris for dinner on Valentine’s Day. Let this be how we got our start. Our real start.”

She kept staring at him, her jaw slack.

“Staci.”

Her mouth worked a little, as though she were trying to form words.

“Baby,” he said. His hands moved to her face, cupping it. “Speak.”

Not a peep.