Undeterred, one corner of his mouth lifted into a half smile. “Actually, they do.”
The pink tip of her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips. His mouth went dry as he watched the fleeting movement. In slow motion she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his cheek. His jaw hardened on impact, and warmth spread along the side of his face. The light fragrance of her perfume—peaches? apricots?—invaded his nostrils and dismantled his resolve to remain impassive.
He couldn’t resist holding her in place, smashing the soft curls against the back of her head. He heard the sudden inhalation of her breath as he brushed his hair-roughened cheek against the silky-smooth softness of hers.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked in a thick voice.
He’d tried to sound nonchalant, as if they were having a normal conversation, but there was nothing normal about his attraction to her. He dipped his head and pressed a quick kiss to the underside of her jaw. She shivered, and she reached out and sank her fingers into his upper arm. The warmth of her touch sent his heart rate escalating at a dangerous pace.
With his hand securely at the nape of her neck, his gaze locked with hers. She’d roused something in him. A powerful, consuming need that made him question the workings of his normally logical brain, now clouded in a befuddling haze of lust.
Her wild-eyed stare signaled her own confusion. “No, it wasn’t,” she whispered.
At first he had no idea what she was talking about, but then he realized she’d answered his rhetorical question.
When his phone beeped, Roarke broke eye contact, and the moment was lost. Aggravated, he glanced at the screen and read the text from Lucas: Ladies leaving. Me and Xander heading out. U coming?
He showed the screen to Celeste. “What do you want to do?”
Her tongue drifted over her lips again, and he gritted his teeth against the reactionary tightening in his crotch. She picked up her purse from the coffee table. “I should probably go, too.”
Roarke placed his hand on her wrist, and she froze. “Or you could stay.”
She stared down at his hand, and several moments passed before she spoke again. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?” He wasn’t ready for her to leave. He would rebut every single objection until he convinced her otherwise.
“I don’t know you.”
“So stay, and get to know me. I’ll answer all your questions.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
Roarke ran his thumb back and forth over the velvet skin of her wrist. “I’m asking you to stay a while longer. Aren’t you having a good time?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?” He smiled. “You said earlier you seldom take time out for yourself. It’s your birthday, and it’s not even midnight yet. Are you telling me you’re ready to go home already?”
“No, but I could catch my friends and see if they want to go somewhere else.”
Roarke shrugged. “Or we could stay, listen to music, and talk some more. If you’re worried about your safety, what could I possibly do to you here?”
“I’m not worried about my safety.”
“Then what is it?” He knew exactly what it was. The sexual tension between them was so thick only a machete could cut through it. If she were half as attracted to him as he was to her, it was certainly cause for concern.
Her face displayed how she struggled with the decision to remain with him. Up until the last few minutes, he had been a perfect gentleman. Had he come on too strong and now she was backing off?
She expelled a breath. “Okay, I’ll stay.”
The overwhelming satisfaction he felt made him want to jump up and pump his fist. Instead, he texted a response to his friend.
Chapter Three