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Authors: Lisa Renée Jones
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man,” Jessica said, pushing off the doorjamb and walking to Kim with the dress extended. “You’re petite, with curves in all the right places, and this dress shows them off. Give yourself permission to wear the dress, and to enjoy the man.”
Chapter Two
A dark sedan appeared in front of the bookstore at exactly eight o’clock. Kim watched from the window as a man in a dark, fitted suit exited the driver’s side and walked toward the store. She opened the door to greet him, all too aware of the deep cleavage of the red dress she’d actually convinced herself to wear.
“Ms. Baker?” the fortysomething, distinguished-looking man inquired.
“Yes, that’s me,” she said, the hot Texas night air rushing over her from the entryway.
“A message from Mr. Morgan,” he said, offering her an envelope.
She frowned and looked toward the car, having assumed Blake was inside waiting for her, but now, not so sure. Her chest tightened. Had he changed his mind about the invitation?
Kim slipped her small black bag over her shoulder and opened the envelope to the plain white note card with neat, male script inside. Anticipation is half the pleasure. Don’t you think? I’ll see you soon.
Heat rushed through Kim, and she swallowed hard before reading the message again, noting the italicized word “ pleasure. ”
“Shall we depart, Ms. Baker?”
Kim’s gaze jerked to the driver whom she’d all but forgotten. He arched a gray eyebrow that clearly said “Last chance to run. Stay or go?” Butterflies fluttered in Kim’s stomach, and she exhaled a slow breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.
“Yes,” she said, surprising herself at how quickly the reply slid from her lips.
The driver gave a nod and stepped to the side of the door to allow her exit.
A quick flip of the lock on the door and a short walk, and Kim slid into the backseat of the sedan. Thankfully, the driver shut her inside quickly, because her skirt was gaping open at the split, and while she knew tonight she should embrace showing a little thigh, she thought she’d save her courage for Blake.
The second the door shut, her gaze flickered to the open bottle of champagne on ice with a flute waiting for her use. Excitement settled in her stomach. This was really happening. She was in a car with champagne, headed on a sensual adventure with a man who made her hot just by purely existing.
A smile slid onto her lips. She never did things like this. Never. It felt good, it felt dangerous and thrilling and… Her ex’s words rang in her head. He’d called her “ frigid, ” when they’d broken up. But then, she’d never felt what she felt for Blake with her ex. Never felt all warm and wanting by simply looking at the man, as she did Blake. Still…what if Blake thought she was frigid?
She reached for the flute and filled it. While she normally would pass on the champagne, she wasn’t willing to blow tonight on nerves and inhibitions. Tonight was about freedom, about a night of “sensual exploration”—whatever that turned out to mean, and wherever it might led. And courage—even if it required a little bubbly for relaxation.
By the time Kim took the first sip of the bubbly liquid, the driver was already pulling the car into the parking garage of a large downtown building a few miles from the bookstore. A sudden rush of panic slid through Kim at the unexpectedly quick arrival at their destination. There was no time to loosen up and mentally prepare to abandon her fears. Quickly, Kim tossed back the contents of her flute. The bubbles tickled her throat, and lightweight drinker that she was, her head felt instantly lighter. The snug-fitting brassiere V of her bodice held up by spaghetti straps somehow felt less exposing than it had only minutes before. Even the slit up her right side that stopped midthigh seemed more sexy than extreme.
The car pulled to a halt in front of the elevators, and in seconds the driver was opening her
Chapter Two
A dark sedan appeared in front of the bookstore at exactly eight o’clock. Kim watched from the window as a man in a dark, fitted suit exited the driver’s side and walked toward the store. She opened the door to greet him, all too aware of the deep cleavage of the red dress she’d actually convinced herself to wear.
“Ms. Baker?” the fortysomething, distinguished-looking man inquired.
“Yes, that’s me,” she said, the hot Texas night air rushing over her from the entryway.
“A message from Mr. Morgan,” he said, offering her an envelope.
She frowned and looked toward the car, having assumed Blake was inside waiting for her, but now, not so sure. Her chest tightened. Had he changed his mind about the invitation?
Kim slipped her small black bag over her shoulder and opened the envelope to the plain white note card with neat, male script inside. Anticipation is half the pleasure. Don’t you think? I’ll see you soon.
Heat rushed through Kim, and she swallowed hard before reading the message again, noting the italicized word “ pleasure. ”
“Shall we depart, Ms. Baker?”
Kim’s gaze jerked to the driver whom she’d all but forgotten. He arched a gray eyebrow that clearly said “Last chance to run. Stay or go?” Butterflies fluttered in Kim’s stomach, and she exhaled a slow breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.
“Yes,” she said, surprising herself at how quickly the reply slid from her lips.
The driver gave a nod and stepped to the side of the door to allow her exit.
A quick flip of the lock on the door and a short walk, and Kim slid into the backseat of the sedan. Thankfully, the driver shut her inside quickly, because her skirt was gaping open at the split, and while she knew tonight she should embrace showing a little thigh, she thought she’d save her courage for Blake.
The second the door shut, her gaze flickered to the open bottle of champagne on ice with a flute waiting for her use. Excitement settled in her stomach. This was really happening. She was in a car with champagne, headed on a sensual adventure with a man who made her hot just by purely existing.
A smile slid onto her lips. She never did things like this. Never. It felt good, it felt dangerous and thrilling and… Her ex’s words rang in her head. He’d called her “ frigid, ” when they’d broken up. But then, she’d never felt what she felt for Blake with her ex. Never felt all warm and wanting by simply looking at the man, as she did Blake. Still…what if Blake thought she was frigid?
She reached for the flute and filled it. While she normally would pass on the champagne, she wasn’t willing to blow tonight on nerves and inhibitions. Tonight was about freedom, about a night of “sensual exploration”—whatever that turned out to mean, and wherever it might led. And courage—even if it required a little bubbly for relaxation.
By the time Kim took the first sip of the bubbly liquid, the driver was already pulling the car into the parking garage of a large downtown building a few miles from the bookstore. A sudden rush of panic slid through Kim at the unexpectedly quick arrival at their destination. There was no time to loosen up and mentally prepare to abandon her fears. Quickly, Kim tossed back the contents of her flute. The bubbles tickled her throat, and lightweight drinker that she was, her head felt instantly lighter. The snug-fitting brassiere V of her bodice held up by spaghetti straps somehow felt less exposing than it had only minutes before. Even the slit up her right side that stopped midthigh seemed more sexy than extreme.
The car pulled to a halt in front of the elevators, and in seconds the driver was opening her
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