Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“I kind of thought that you’d stop the elevator.
That you’d turn to me as we were halted between floors, and you’d pin me against the elevator wall.
” Simone took a sip of her wine. “Then you’d come in close, and you’d kiss me as if your life depended on it.
My lips would part beneath yours. Your tongue would slide into my mouth.
” Another sip. “Your hand would dip under my shirt—”
Ryan’s growl cut through her words.
She sent him a sunny smile. “But you didn’t do any of those things.
You just escorted me down here.” She lifted her glass to indicate the busy restaurant.
“And I realize now that seduction was not your game. Instead, your strategy is to publicly parade me around town so that the people who want me dead can find me in a very swift manner.” She lowered the wine glass to the table because her fingers were shaking, and she didn’t want to send the wine sloshing all about. “How incredibly charming of you.”
He reached across the table, seemingly intent on reaching out for her.
But the back of his hand hit the salt shaker, sending it falling down and scattering a bit of salt over the dark tablecloth.
Ryan’s hard jaw locked as he brushed aside the salt.
“I am not parading you around town.” His hand casually waved toward his left shoulder.
“I am sitting with you in a restaurant because you were starving. I’m feeding you. ”
But her eyes had gotten caught on his waving hand. Only, had he been waving? Pursing her lips, Simone leaned forward. She looked at the salt shaker. Then his shoulder. “Excuse me.”
That jaw of his appeared extra hard.
“Did you just toss salt over your shoulder?” Simone inquired.
He stared her dead in the eyes. “Why would you think I did that?”
Her mouth curved. “Because the lady in the fancy fur coat just got hit in the eye by salt, and she’s wiping it off her face.”
“Shit.” He turned. Saw the lady. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “My bad.”
The woman frowned at him.
A little bubble of laughter escaped Simone. “What on earth was that about?”
His focus returned to her. “Do you want dessert?”
“Of course. There is never any world where I would not want dessert. Didn’t you learn that about me on our previous dates?” But she was not going to be sidetracked. “Ryan Quinn.” She savored his name. Is it even his real name? “Are you superstitious?”
His nostrils flared. “I simply don’t see a point in inviting bad luck. Given our current situation, do you think we should go around tempting fate?”
“You fascinate me.” Truly, he did. “Tell me your other superstitions.”
“I’m not superstitious. I’m…minorly so.”
She needed to stop being enchanted by him. He was using her. He’d lied to her.
Fine. She’d used him. She’d lied to him.
And…
Why did it feel so good whenever they were together?
Correction, whenever they were together and not being kidnapped?
Or terrorized? Then it felt good. Right at that moment, she felt good with him.
Her fingers were no longer shaking, and she didn’t feel as if a vise had clamped around her heart.
“Are you afraid of black cats? Do you always avoid walking under ladders? Do you think that you’ll have seven years of bad luck if you break a mirror? ”
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Yes. Yes.” An exhale. “Yes.”
Another laugh slid from her. “Stop being fantastic. I am enjoying you far too much.” She really, truly was. A dangerous thing. “Come on. Tell me more. Unlock the mystery that is Ryan Quinn for me.”
“Only if you unlock the mystery that is Simone Sailor for me.” He took a sip of his wine, too. The first sip he’d taken. He’d mostly just been drinking water during their meal. “Is that even your real name? Because Jez is convinced it isn’t.”
“Simone is the name I use. It’s the name my friends use for me.
So it’s certainly real enough.” The waiter approached, and she stopped talking while he removed their empty plates.
Had she eaten delicately? Uh, no. She’d torn through the food like a starving woman because she had been starving.
“You know, you can bring more bread,” she told the waiter in her most encouraging tone.
Edward. He’d introduced himself when he first arrived at their table.
“Bread is always welcome.” Bread was one of her addictions in life.
Bread, books, dessert…she’d always believed you should enjoy the good things. Life was worth living. And there was always time for more bread.
“Does the lady want a dessert? Perhaps a chocolate mousse or our famous white chocolate cheesecake?”
She nearly purred. “Chocolate mousse. You sweet, sweet man.”
Simone was pretty sure that she felt Ryan’s shoe tap against her leg. She frowned at him.
“And for the gentleman?” The waiter turned toward Ryan.
“No dessert. Just coffee.”
The waiter nodded and backed away.
“Well, aren’t you the buzz kill?” Her head tilted. “Did you kick me under the table?”
“I tapped you.” His index finger skimmed over the bridge of his nose. “Because you were flirting unnecessarily with the waiter.”
“Ah.” A sage nod. “You were jealous.”
He…flushed.
She’d meant the words to be teasing, but his response caught her completely off guard.
Simone straightened in her seat. “You were jealous.” Surprise pulsed through her.
“Because I called the waiter sweet? Look, anyone who brings me bread and chocolate is sweet, but I’m not interested in Edward.
The only man I’m fantasizing about is you.
You, the surly, unpredictable, superstitious CIA spy that you are. ”
He glanced around. “How about we not announce my spy status to everyone?” His gaze came back to her. “And are you faking your response to me? Was it all just part of your cover and your lies?”
“That hurts.” It did. No flashing smile.
No teasing tone. She’d gone dead serious.
“I happen to like the way I feel when you and I are together. I don’t fuck men for cover stories.
Never have. Never will. I went out on dates with you because I liked you.
I could easily have gotten into that gallery on my own.
In case you need the reminder, going there was your idea because you were using me. ”
“I like the way I feel when you and I are together, too.” Rasped. Almost angry.
Also…truthful? She thought those words of his might be true. “Well, then.”
“Well, then…what?” His brows had shot up.
Beneath the table, Simone slid her right foot out of her high heel. He sat directly across from her, and, honestly, it was a bit too far, but if she stretched, she could make this work. The table was small, intimate, and the long, dark tablecloth would hide her movements.
She stretched.
He jumped.
Then Ryan’s hands immediately clamped around the edge of the table near him. “Simone.”
“Um?”
“Are you…” He swallowed. “Is your foot tapping me?”
“Is that what you want to call it?” Her foot was not, in fact, tapping. It was gliding. Up his calf. Then higher. Above his knee.
He swallowed again. And his right hand flew beneath the table and locked around her ankle before she could go higher. “What are you doing?”
“Why don’t you let go and you can find out?”
His eyes blazed at her. A dark fire. Lust. Need.
And his hand let go.
Her foot continued its exploration. “What do we have here?” But she knew. She could tell what that very large item was. She arched her foot, rubbed over his heavy cock, and when a low rumble of need tore from him, her own breath caught.
“Here you are!”
The waiter was back.
Ryan cursed.
Her foot slid off him.
“The dessert.” Edward put two plates down with a flourish. “And the extra bread that you requested.” The waiter beamed at her. “Is there anything else the lady would like?”
Oh, she could think of a few things. But she just thanked the waiter and watched as he hurried off. He hadn’t brought Ryan’s coffee. Should she have asked about it? Ryan certainly hadn’t. He’d appeared…distracted.
“What. Game. Are. You. Playing?” Each word rumbled hard from Ryan.
“The kind that you like obviously.” She dropped her napkin. “Whoops.” She slanted a glance Ryan’s way.
He shook his head. “You are not.” He’d clearly anticipated her plan. Good for him.
“Dropped my napkin. Better get it.” She dipped down low. Slipped under the table.
“Simone.”
This was a five-star restaurant. She should not be doing this. She knew she should not be doing this. And yet…
Her hand reached out to him. She’d deliberately slipped close to his side of the table. It was so easy to reach out. To reach up. To skim her fingers over the heavy bulge of his arousal. It would be just as easy to unzip his pants and—
“Check!” Ryan thundered. “Check, now!”
She returned to her seat. “But I haven’t had dessert.”
“I’m about to have my dessert.” His expression could only be termed savage. “Check!”
He pulled her into the elevator. Ryan used the keycard to access their secure floor, and as soon as those elevator doors closed…
He pulled Simone against him. His lips took hers. His dick was so hard that he hurt, and all he wanted to do was strip her. Lift her up. And plunge into her. Again and again.
Had he ever had sex in an elevator before? No. Did he want to have sex right there, right then? Yes. A thousand times, yes.
She moaned. That little ragged, sweet sound that he loved. Her sweater was soft against him, but her skin was softer. He wanted her naked. He wanted her moaning. He wanted her coming around him.
Simone pulled back. Her breath heaved in and out as she stared up at him. “Tell me that this has nothing to do with your case.”
“It has nothing to do with my case.” In fact, the case was the reason why he should be keeping his hands off her.
But she smiled at him. Her smiles were absolutely bewitching. Every time she flashed one at him, Ryan was convinced that he fell a bit more under her spell.