One Perfect Touch (Very Irresistible Bachelors 3)
Page 30
“No, I think they’ll be back to normal in a few minutes.”
He sat on the ottoman, close to me. I sucked in a breath when he placed his hand on my foot. I was wearing socks, but even through the thick cotton, his touch impacted me. A sigh escaped me. God, I hoped it sounded like a whimper of pain. I barely kept my composure. This man’s touch was pure fire.
He moved his fingers from my foot up my ankle, skimming them almost up to my knee. When he looked up, he was smirking. Damn, I hadn’t fooled him.
“I made an impression, didn’t I?”
“What do you mean?”
That smirk turned into a grin.
“You scared me,” I answered without giving him a chance to elaborate.
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
“That’s what it was,” I insisted.
It wasn’t, of course. I knew it. He knew it.
“Why were you still home?” I asked, hoping that would distract him. “Didn’t you say you always leave early?”
“Worked from home this morning, then saw you out there. I couldn’t just ignore what was right in front of me.”
Ah, I loved it when he threw my own words back at me. I couldn’t challenge that, could I?
I blushed, moving my foot just a little out of his reach. If he didn’t stop touching me, something was going to give—more specifically... me.
“Were you productive?”
“Not really. I was looking for a present for Lindsay.”
“Did you find anything?”
He frowned. “No.”
“Why don’t you ask your sister?”
“She said to just surprise her. Any ideas?”
Aww, it was downright adorable how concerned he was about a present!
“There are kids’ sections in a few department stores. I’m sure the salesperson can advise you. Soho also has some cute shops with handmade presents, but you have to know where to look for them. She might like that—having a one-of-a-kind item. I can go with you, if you want.”
His mouth opened slightly as his eyes searched me. I’d caught him off guard.
“Sure. When do you want to go?”
“It’ll be a late start for me at the store today, so I’ll be the one closing. Can we go tomorrow?”
“Okay. I’ll be going, then. How do you want me to make it up to you?”
“Huh?”
“The way I see it, this is my fault.” He pointed to my foot. “You said I scared you. Unless you want to take that back.”
“No, it’s true,” I teased.
“So I have to make it up to you.”