She stopped moving, her brown eyes widened and she held up her hands as if to ward him off. “Why did you say that? I didn’t think that. Did I make you--”
Her voice had shot to a high pitched squeak and he pressed his finger to her lips, stilling her. Gerard found himself intrigued by the quirky proud woman who reeked of fear and yet stood her ground. Not that he wouldn’t mind a quicker capitulation than this-- but he’d learned the prize was often made sweeter by the chase.
“Mon petite,” he traced the line of her heart shaped chin with his thumb, his body responding to the barely discernible trembles running through her, “women are like a fine wine, meant to be savored slowly and often.”
Her ears blushed a deep shade of pink, Gerard chuckled and touched the hot tips; he’d never known a woman’s ears could flush scarlet.
She grabbed his hand, stopping his caress and her voice was a low throaty chuckle. He knew women, knew when they were sexually aroused and though her lips said no, her body told the true story.
“Frenchmen and their wine, next thing you’ll be telling me is I taste of escargot.”
He wrapped his hand around the finger she pointed into his chest. “And butter. Don’t forget the butter,” he teased, “escargot, wine, and butter.”
“The French trinity.” She snorted and the curve of her luscious lips told him she fought the laugh. “I brought you here to eat, to have a warm bed for one night. That’s all. No seductions.” She stepped out of his arms. “One night, Gerard. Period. So don’t get too cozy here.”
Gerard smiled. But it wasn’t just any smile, it was the slow spread of lips, the narrowing of eyes, and the tilt of his chin that he used like a weapon against her. He’d won many hearts by simply being patient.
“As you say, Madam,” he purred; his raspy growl grew even deeper and caused her pupils to dilate.
Let the woman believe herself in charge. That was the trick. Make her feel secure in her power and she’d never know the seduction had ever happened until she was in bed with him. By that point she no longer cared about nonsense like roses and words of affirmation. She’d take whatever he gave, but what he gave was plenty good. None had ever been less than satisfied. At least in that, Gerard succeeded.
She bit her bottom lip. The lass was truly delicious, a tempting mix of minx and innocence. His heart beat hard at the thought of finally making her his.
“What is your name?” Why was he asking that? He didn’t care. Truly. It didn’t matter and yet his entire body tingled with the need to know. This had to be Betty Hart, of all the women he’d seen, only she intrigued him on a visceral level.
Her lips quirked. “If you’re nice, maybe I’ll tell you.”
Gerard grinned, did she sass him now? How very interesting.
“After dinner.” And with that, she turned on her heels. “I’m dripping water all over the floor and so are you. Let me get us some clothes and then we can start thinking about what to do for dinner.”
***
“Wow,” she pushed her plate away and rubbed her belly, “where did you learn to cook like that?”
“A woman,” he said, stabbing another red potato on his fork before popping it in his mouth.
She twirled her glass of red wine between slim fingers. “Ah, of course.”
He swallowed and nodded. “Food is not the way to a man’s heart, it’s the other way around. Men don’t care if beef is boiled, grilled, or sautéed. No,” he shook his head, “so long as it’s warm and fills our belly, we’re content. But a woman...” he licked his lips eyeing her chest. The tight fit of her gray top outlined her rounded breasts to perfection, making him hungry for something other than the smoked cod on his plate. “Cook for her and she’s all yours.” He held out the palm of his hand.
She leaned back, lifted her foot on the chair and rested her hand on her knee. “You’re a dangerous man to know, Gerard. Somehow I don’t think many women get to walk away from you with their heart intact.”
Wine had loosened her tongue, gave her a becoming pink flush to her cheeks, and Gerard wanted her with a mounting desire that bordered on the insane. She wore a pair of checkered boxers, so masculine, but not on her. Not with the long expanse of creamy legs peeking out beneath and the tight fitting top-- there could be no mistaking she was pure woman.
His cock stirred. It’d been days since his last tup. Desperately wanting to adjust himself, he resisted the urge, not wanting her to realize just how badly he wanted her.
She licked her lips, her lids were slightly heavy, lazily opening and closing. He ground his jaw, no longer even tasting his food. With a growl, Gerard swiped the bottle of red off the table and filled his glass for the third time and chugged.
Either he got himself thoroughly smashed, or he’d make a move on her, and he knew she wasn’t ready. Not yet. He did it now and he’d never get another chance.
“Rented a movie last night,” she slurred a little.