Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(39)

He roughly pulls my arm through his. “So we walk together. Like this?”

“Yes.” I’m breathless again.

I relax until his free hand strokes mine. As we walk, my body reacts to him, and every nerve ending feels alive and wired.

We stop in front of the mirrors.

“Now what?” He grins at our reflections. “Do we strip off here and try something else or . . .”

“I’ll stay in the red dress.”

James runs those twinkling, mischievous blue eyes all over me. “You really do look great in red.”

“Thank you.” I like that he likes it, but I’m trying to keep it together. “You can try another suit.”

“How about I just try you on? We’ll be a good fit. Promise.”

I swallow, laughing because I can’t help it.

Smiling, he leans forward. I’m a breath away from his lips.

“You’re tempted.” His words a dark, tantalizing murmur.

I am. I shake my head anyway.

“You are.” He nods at my chest. “Those beaded nipples?” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Say otherwise.” He holds me at arm’s length. With the distance between us, I look down, and he catches me. “And when you do that?” He grins. “You send mixed signals.” He gives me a saucy look. “I like it.”

“You can’t keep doing this. We . . .”

“Feels right to me.”

He has a way of turning everything around, and I can’t win. There’s no point in trying now. I’d only back myself into a darker corner.

“Feels right to you too. Your little fists balled at your side? That’s because you want to stop yourself from touching me. Those legs, that hint of skin showing when the dress shifts? That’s for me. Nobody else is here.” His voice is dark with desire. “All of it—this—is all for me, Lizzy.”

I can hardly talk now.

“I think maybe I chose the wrong dress,” I say, feeling light headed. “I’ll be right back.”

He grabs me before I can get away. One hand slides up my face. The other drags up and down my torso. Now it’s anybody’s game, and somehow it’s turned into a very provocative, and quite thrilling, inappropriate game. “I guess we’re all finished today.”

“With business.”

“I see.” I’m supposed to be in control but can’t find it. In James’s arms, there’s no control to be found. “So you liked the designs.”

His eyes dip lower. “Yours.”

“Not mine,” I say, already aware of his tightening grip. “I want you to like what you wear.”

“I’d be happier naked.” He grins. “YOU would be happier naked.”

“Well, we can’t exactly work in our birthday suits.”

“Trust me. We definitely could.”

Pull. It. Together. Banks.

“Tell you what. We’ll finish here tomorrow. Feel free to change back to your clothes.” I point to his street clothes. “Meet me in the dining room. The next lesson is one we need to master as soon as possible.”

“I don’t need you to show me how to eat, baby.”

“Wanna bet? Don’t call me baby.”

“How about you let me take you out again. On a date?”

“We’re not . . . we can’t go on a date.”

“Oh, we will. Baby.”

“Dream on, Devil,” I toss back as I head down the hall to change, taking care not to steal a peek behind my shoulders at his gorgeous body as he changes back into his street clothes.





DINING ETIQUETTE

Elizabeth

I’m glad we’ll be dining now so that he can’t be looming so close to me, unsettling me.

I think we’re both a little pissy because we’d rather be doing something else.

Each other.

“Sit.” I pat the back of the white parsons chair, and right as he starts to sit, I move the chair. Revenge for him teasing me like crazy just now.

He loses his balance but catches himself before plummeting to the floor.

“What the . . .”

“A gentleman always offers a chair to the lady at his side, and he never sits before all ladies have been seated.” I notice he’s not paying attention. “Need a demonstration?”

“How hard can it be to hold out a chair?”

“Okay, then.” I wait. “Well?”

James rolls his eyes and stands to full height, exasperated as he pulls out and holds the chair for me. I slide in front of it and wait for the chair to be scooted forward. As soon as it is, I sit . . . and immediately fall to the floor.

“What the hell was that?” I glare up at him.

“Fair play.” He laughs as he reaches for me.

“This isn’t funny, Rowan!” My ass aches.

“It’s hilarious, if you ask me.” He winks. “How’s it feel when the chair is pulled out from under you?”

“I was trying to teach you a lesson.”

“Ditto, baby.”

“I don’t need lessons in manners.” I glare up at him. “You do.”

“Clearly.” He’s mocking me with his stiff upper lip. “For future reference, you can let me know what’s expected. There’s no reason for etiquette lessons to become more dangerous than ice hockey.”