“The best part is their menu. They have an excellent chef. Unfortunately, there is no elevator, so the space is only accessible by stairs. I only mention it in case you have any guests who can’t make the climb.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.”
Harrison found an open spot along the curb a half block up from their destination and parked. They then walked back toward the venue. As Harrison held the front door, allowing her to pass, she noticed his slight frown. The first floor of the narrow building was occupied by a wine bar.
“Don’t let the size down here fool you,” she said, waving at the manager. “Upstairs is fifteen hundred square feet and feels much more open and airy. There’s plenty of room for all your guests and even an outdoor patio if the night is mild.” She broke off to greet Jim Gleeson and introduced the manager to Harrison. “Jim has helped me with several corporate functions over the last two years,” she explained.
The two men shook hands and then Jim led the way upstairs. “We can set up the space however you envision it,” the manager said over his shoulder. “And the room is big enough that we can divide it into a cocktail setting with high tables or couches on one end and large round tables on the other for dinner.”
“I think that would be nice,” London said.
They’d reached the second floor and Harrison wasn’t evaluating the space, but rather, his attention was focused on her.
“Since we’d talked about a jazz band,” she continued, determined to treat him like a client in this setting, “we could place them near the bar as people first enter.”
At the moment the room was set up for a cocktail party with a freestanding bar at each end and high-top tables scattered along the perimeter.
Jim’s phone buzzed and he excused himself, leaving the pair alone.
Somehow as soon as it was just the two of them, the massive room became oddly intimate. Or maybe it was the way Harrison was looking at her as if he intended to penetrate her professional mask and get to the woman beneath. London couldn’t stop herself from recalling how disappointed she’d been on Saturday night that he hadn’t tried to kiss her good-night. Or the way they’d leaned toward each other on the plane ride back, sharing the armrest as he’d shown her the camera footage from inside his race car.
“What I really like here is all the period details,” she began, taking refuge in professionalism to avoid Harrison’s hot gaze. She walked away from him, gesturing at the exposed brick and white wainscoting. Her heels clicked on the polished pine floor and echoed off the gleaming wood in the original coffered ceiling. “Isn’t this fireplace fantastic?”
“I think you’re fantastic.”
“I’m picturing ten tables of ten. With big glass vases holding candles and filled with glass beads in the center. Since it’s December, we could do evergreen centerpieces, but maybe that’s too predictable.” Aware that she was rambling, London continued. To stop meant she might give in to the longing pulsing through her. “Or we could do glass pillars with layered candies like peppermints and foil-wrapped chocolates in red and green. Unless you think he’s too sophisticated and would prefer crystal with white and silver.”
While she’d been going on and on, Harrison had been stalking after her, his expression intent, his gaze narrowed. Now, as she approached the door leading out to the rooftop patio, he set his hand on the doorknob before she could reach it, halting her retreat.
“I think you’re fantastic,” he repeated, compelling her to stop dodging him. “Everything about you interests me.”
“I like you a lot,” she admitted, surprising both of them with the confession. “What you do is dangerous and exciting. I never imagined...”
Oh, what was she doing? It was on the tip of her tongue to spill everything about the riotous, treacherous emotions driving her actions. To share how disappointed she’d been Saturday night because he hadn’t tried anything when he’d brought her back to her hotel room. Confessing her developing feelings for him was the absolute wrong thing to do. So how was she supposed to get out of the verbal corner she’d backed herself into?
* * *
Harrison watched a dozen conflicting emotions race across London’s features. Most of the time she’d demonstrated a sphinxian ability to keep her thoughts concealed. Her need to keep herself hidden frustrated him. He wanted her to open up and share what made her tick.
“I’ve also had great success with hurricane holders filled with rice lights and Christmas balls,” she stated in a breathless rush, returning to the earlier topic of centerpieces. “Or glass bowls with candles floating above holly sprigs.”
“Never imagined what?” Harrison prompted, ignoring her attempt to evade the real subject.
She shook her head. “This really isn’t the place for this conversation.”
“Where would you like to go?” He hoped she’d suggest her place. Or his. It was past time he got her alone.
“I set aside my afternoon to help you find a venue for your brother’s birthday party.”
“London,” he murmured, cradling her head in his palm, thumb caressing her flushed cheek.
“Yes?”
Her voice was equally soft and it seemed to him a trace of desperation colored her tone as if with each thump of her heart she was losing the fight to maintain control. It echoed how he felt when they were together. Each moment in her company tested his willpower. He knew better than to pressure her like this. As much as he wanted to go in with guns blazing, she needed to be coaxed. Wooed. Enticed. But damn if he didn’t want to feel her surrender beneath his touch.
“I don’t really care what venue we choose,” he said. “The only reason I’m here today is to spend time with you.”
He placed just the tips of his fingers on her spine. A tremor went through her an instant before she tipped her head back and gazed up at his face. The hunger glowing in her eyes transfixed him. Inching closer, he dipped his head until he could feel her breath on his skin. He grazed his nose against hers, ending the move with a slight bump that nudged her head into a better angle. Smiling at the sigh that escaped her, he slanted his mouth above hers, not quite making contact. Although he’d already kissed her on the street in downtown Charleston, that location hadn’t offered him the privacy to do it right. Plus, it had been too soon to take things as far as he wanted to.