“Oh. Right.” The frown cleared. The warmth returned to his eyes and his voice. “Put your shoes on. I’m taking you home. And don’t argue.”
“I won’t argue, providing you take me on the bike.”
He shot her a look. “Paige—”
“We both know that if you were making a trip to Brooklyn at this time, you’d take the bike.”
His smile was back, that slanting, seductive smile that always left her defenseless. “That’s how we bad boys like to get around at night, but that doesn’t mean—”
“I want to go on the bike. I always have.” She picked up her bag. “And because you don’t protect me, I know you’re going to say yes. Do you have a spare helmet?”
He laughed, disappeared again and returned carrying soft leathers and a pair of boots.
“You need to wear these. If you want to ride on my bike, you’ll wear what I tell you to wear. No negotiation.”
“These won’t fit me.”
“They’ll fit and before you ask searching questions I can tell you they belonged to a niece of Maria’s who was visiting from Sicily. I showed her around.”
She dressed and they walked to the elevator together.
He took her hand. “Do you want to take the stairs?”
“No. I came up in it. I can go down in it. Does it often break?”
“Never.” He nudged her inside. “And if it does I’ll distract you with sex until it’s fixed.”
“I almost want it to break.”
He hit the button on the wall and pulled her against him, kissing her so thoroughly that she couldn’t work out whether the lurch in her stomach was due to the elevator or the skill of his mouth on hers.
When the doors opened, he released her reluctantly and led her through to the underground garage.
She was aware of every movement he made, from the long, lazy stride to the fluid way he mounted the bike.
She settled herself behind him, her view mostly obliterated by the broad planes of his shoulders and back.
The engine fired to life with a throaty growl and Paige decided there was something erotic about a motorcycle. Or maybe it was the fact that Jake was the one riding it. The raw power of the man in front of her would have made any mode of transport attractive.
She slid her arms around him and sucked in a breath as the bike roared into the night, the engine vibrating with power.
He steered skillfully through the backstreets, down to Lower Manhattan.
Her legs were pressed against the hard muscle of his, her arms locked around hard male strength.
She inhaled it all, the man, the cool night air and the smells of New York City.
All around them the streets were beginning to come to life. There were lights on in bakeries and plumes of steam rose from vents in the surrounding buildings, clouding the air.
They wound their way to the Brooklyn Bridge, connecting Lower Manhattan to Brooklyn.
Paige turned her head and looked back at the skyline glittering and twinkling like a film set.
Surely nothing compared to the magic of the Brooklyn Bridge at night?
How many lovers had walked across this bridge? How many proposals and promises had been made on this incredible feat of engineering high above the fast-flowing waters of the East River?
She felt the cool air rush past her face, watching as a new day dawned, as fingers of light fractured the dark sky.