But that was yesterday, which almost felt like a lifetime ago as she had been counting down the hours until she came back to work and maybe, hopefully, would see him again.
He was dressed in his usual ensemble of dark clothing, his leather jacket abandoned on the seat beside him. Was it premature, her thinking she knew him? They hadn’t spoken all that much, but what little conversation they had had felt strangely intimate, like there was more than passing curiosity.
As soon as he was seated, Reagan headed over, refusing to pretend like she hadn’t noticed his presence the minute he had pushed through those doors. On the way, she grabbed a mug and a pot, already knowing that he would order a cup.
He seemed to be a creature of habit.
The minute she started in his direction, Niklaus’ eyes lifted, drifting over her as they did every time, as though her appearance might have changed since the last time he saw her. This time, there was a heat in his gaze.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t made his interest in her known, even without words, and it seemed like he was going to make himself clear.
“Good to see you again, Niklaus,” she said, keeping her voice low as she poured his cup. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re purposely seeking me out.”
That corner of his mouth drew up again, but she wouldn’t consider that a smile, not with the way he was looking at her. “I am, unless you mind.”
Oh…
She hadn’t thought he would come right out and admit it. “No,” she said after catching her breath, her face flushed. “Not at all.”
Reagan was readying to walk away when he gestured to the seat opposite him. “You have a minute?”
“I—sure.” She didn’t think she could have walked away if she tried. “What’s up?”
“What are you doing after work?”
She swallowed, the sound loud even to her own ears. “I’m…uh…well, nothing. Just home, I guess.”
When had she turned into this stuttering mess? Like she had never talked to a guy before?
“Come home with me then.” He said that without blinking or stuttering, and making sure she understood just how serious he was.
Since they weren’t busy, she didn’t mind sitting with him, actually found that she enjoyed being in his presence, even if he didn’t reveal much. As the statement and the implications of it hung between them she had no idea how to respond. She wasn’t even sure there was a correct way to respond to that.
But after a second, she found her voice. “What are you asking for?”
The question was whispered, almost as though she was afraid that their conversation might be overheard. Before he could answer, as she was finally accepting what he had asked moments before, she knew, as any woman would, exactly what he wanted.
“One night,” he said, his gaze like a physical caress as it swept over her from head to toe and back again. “Or two.”
A flush of heat swept through her at the dark promise she saw in those blue eyes of his. No one had ever looked at her that way before, like she was utterly, and completely, desirable.
Like she was the only thing he wanted to taste…
His offer was tempting—he was tempting—but she could never agree. She didn’t think she could do a one-night-stand, not even two nights, because she knew how it would end. Even if he made her crave one with him just by the way he was staring.
Reagan already liked him. He was charming in his own way, polite, if not reserved, and possibly one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. Sex would only complicate it, make her believe in something that probably wasn’t there.
Shaking her head before she could conjure the thoughts that would make her give in, she said, “I have to get back to my other tables.”
She wouldn’t outright refuse him—even she couldn’t bring herself to do that—but if he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Yet before she could get away, he caught her wrist, his hold gentle, and she didn’t doubt for a second that if she attempted to pull away, he would let her.
The index and middle fingers he had pressed against the pulse point in her wrist was warm, almost too warm, but that only made her far more aware of his hold.
With his other, he pressed something into her hand, curling her fingers around it before she could see what it was. He still held her as he stood.
“For when you change your mind,” he explained, finally releasing his hold on her as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the exit.
Looking down, she opened her hand and found a plastic key, the name of a hotel she was familiar with inscribed on it, along with a room number.
He hadn’t said if she changed her mind, but when.
As she tucked the key away, she wondered how long it would be before she caved.
* * *