Exposed to You (One Night of Passion 2)

He shrugged and took a sip of his ice water. “It is, isn’t it? You’re not too certain about the idea of getting involved with me.” He set his glass down and met her stare levelly. His eyes gleamed in the candlelight. “I’m not one of those people who lets Hollywood go to their head, Joy. I know reality from fantasy.”

She glanced away from his piercing gaze. “It’s heady stuff—the crowds, the adulation, the praise from millions. If you can tell the difference between reality and fantasy, my hat goes off to you. I wasn’t even the focus of it tonight, but I was affected by it,” she admitted, considering the golden glow of excitement that surrounded her. Was that the type of experience her father had craved, both as a race car driver and a manager for a high-profile Formula 1 racing team?

She glanced at Everett. “I don’t think you can’t tell the difference between reality and fantasy. You’re very down-to-earth—shockingly so, considering your job.”

“Then why the hesitance about going out with me?” he challenged quietly.

She inhaled slowly. “Maybe it’s me I’m concerned about. I’m worried I might give in to the lure of it all.”

His brow crinkled in confusion. “You don’t strike me as the fame-starved type, Joy.”

She laughed. “I’m far from wanting attention. If anything, I’d rather avoid it.”

“That’s what I thought. So what did you mean, ‘the lure of it all’?”

Her gaze flickered across his handsome, sober face. “I meant the lure of you.”

His mouth tightened. “That’s a nice thing to say. I think.”

She smiled. “I haven’t been dating much recently. To suddenly be on a date again—and not with just anyone or on any date, bu

t one with Everett Hughes on the night of a premiere—well, it’s a little overwhelming,” she admitted, taking a sip of her water.

She’d put dating and men on the back burner since she’d learned of her cancer diagnosis. She’d been declared cancer free, but the threat still lingered like a toxic cloud. To Joy, the whole experience of doing battle with death had been a highly personal experience. She’d even kept Seth at the periphery, never allowing her uncle into the central arena where her fears and anguish resided.

“How come you haven’t been dating? Bad breakup?” he added when she didn’t immediately respond. She was spared having to answer when the waiter entered the private dining room with their drinks. While they were served, she had the opportunity to come up with an answer for Everett. She turned to him once the waiter had left.

“Like I said, I find you to be very down-to-earth and grounded. It’s myself I question. You must know that I’m attracted to you,” she said. “It’s a little hard to figure out how much of that is real, though. Almost every woman in the country has at least a minor crush on Everett Hughes.”

“They don’t know me.”

“I realize that. But neither do I, Everett.”

His nostrils flared slightly. He took a sip of his drink and set it down before he turned in the booth and faced her. She stilled when he placed his opened hand on the side of her neck and brushed her cheek with his thumb. The gesture struck her as cherishing and highly sexually possessive at once.

“Maybe that’s true. But you have to admit, there’s some serious chemistry between us.”

“I won’t even try to deny it. I still can’t believe I did what I did at the studio that time.”

His gaze roved over her face, intense . . . hungry. His face lowered.

“Serious sexual chemistry is as good a place to start as any.”

He seized her mouth with his own. She felt the effect of his lips and tongue from the tips of her breasts to the center of her sex and all the way to her curling toes. He cupped both of her shoulders with his hands and molded the muscle to his palms. One hand trailed down her arm. She shivered.

“You’ve been driving . . . me crazy all night . . . in this dress,” he murmured as he pressed kisses along her jaw and neck. “Your skin is so smooth . . . so soft . . . such a beautiful color.” She gasped when he began to nibble at the skin of her neck. He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. He raised his head and met her stare. “I know you probably think I’m coming on too strong, but I can’t seem to stop myself.”

He sunk his head, and once again she was made drunk by his kiss. He caressed her along the side of her waist and up her ribs, playing her nerves like a master. He opened his hand when he reached the side of her breast, his fingers lightly massaging her back, the ridge of his thumb cradling the weight of her breast, only the thin satin fabric separating his skin from her own. He groaned quietly and deepened their kiss.

His hand shifted, covering her breast. Warm moisture seeped from her pussy, an answer to the call of his touch. It felt so good feeling her desire flow like sap, reminding her she was alive. Vibrant. Sexually desirable to a man like Everett.

It was heady stuff.

It was also intoxicating, because only distantly did she remember they were in a public place. His hand slid beneath the satin of her dress, her nipple pulling tight and hard against his stroking fingers, and her concern faded to the periphery of her mind.

He lifted his head and murmured something she couldn’t hear, but understood—a searing endearment. He untied the satin straps at her left shoulder and lowered her dress. She felt a flicker of uncertainty when his fingertip brushed over the thin, three-quarter-inch scar just beneath her clavicle.

“What happened here?”