Read Online Winning Her Over by Alexa Rowan - Free Book Online

walked, the warmth of her skin. It occurred to him that she’d had her hands all over his body, but he’d barely touched her. And he had no way of rectifying that imbalance.
    “Where are you headed?” he asked. “Can I walk you somewhere?”
    “Just to the T station.”
    Concerned, he spoke without thinking. “You’re taking the subway? At this hour?”
    She visibly bristled. “I always do, sometimes even later than this. It’s safe.”
    “I’d feel better if you took a cab. Let me get one for you.”
    “No thanks, I prefer public transit,” she said coolly.
    He could tell he was increasing her agitation, but he didn’t feel right about dropping her off at a subway station and just walking away from her. “Look, if it’s about money, I’m happy to pay for you—”
    “No!” Her protest was loud and forceful. “Look, this wasn’t a date, and I can get home on my own.”
    Her narrow-eyed glare sliced him to ribbons, and her body language told him his chances of a good-night kiss were rapidly dwindling. She’d stiffened, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively. As much as it irked him, he needed to back off, pronto. If he didn’t, she was going to walk away from him, breaking that fragile but undeniable thread of connection between them.
    Cal gently touched her arm. “Hey. I’m sorry. I overstepped. I’m just used to watching out for my friends, when it’s late. But you know this part of the city better than I do.” His shoulders tightened. “Let me walk you to the T station?”
    She paused for what seemed like eons before rendering judgment. “Okay. That would be nice.” Then the humor gleamed in her eyes once more. “But no funny stuff.”
    He raised three fingers in a salute. “Scout’s honor.” Thank God she’d given him another chance.
    “It’s just a couple of blocks.”
    “Lead the way.” He swept his hand forward with a courtly gesture.
    Their route took them past Newbury Street’s curved and angled brick-fronted facades, each with its own set of brownstone steps. As they walked, he again drew her into a low-key conversation he hoped would defuse the tension that had built during their disagreement. He’d employed that tactic dozens of times in working with nervous witnesses, to build rapport. It seemed to meet with some success with Brenna, too, as she told him about the Indian restaurant that had been the other option she’d offered for their dinner, and he expressed his appreciation that she’d suggested Ciro’s.
    They stopped at the elaborate wrought-iron entrance to the station. The uneasy moment of their parting had arrived. He’d learned his lesson though, and he forced himself to let Brenna take charge.
    She leaned toward him, and he bent down, not making any assumptions and deliberately allowing her to set their limits.
    Soft and yielding, her lips pressed against his own.
    The hunger of desire overtook him, and he fisted his hands at his sides to keep from tangling them in her hair, to keep himself from deepening their kiss, the way he wanted.
    Instead, his eyelids fell shut as he inhaled her scent, hoping to imprint it on his memory. Something floral, jasmine maybe, mingled with the pleasant yet distinctive fragrance of the massage oil he remembered from two weeks ago.
    Too soon, she pulled away. He straightened, clearing his throat, already wishing he could kiss her again.
    “Good luck with your trial,” she said.
    “Thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
    “Bye, Cal,” she said, her eyes luminous and lovely.
    “Until next time.” Cal hoped his confident smile masked all of his inconvenient feelings.
    He watched as she descended the stairs, until she disappeared from view. His heart sank just a little when she didn’t look back.

6
    W ith the imprint of Cal’s lips still tingling on her own, Brenna caught one last glimpse of him, still watching her as she rounded the corner of the Copley station stairway. She refused to look longingly