when a man asks a woman he has more than a passing interest in to have dinner with him, it’s a date.”
She shook her head as she pulled her key card from her small evening bag. “You didn’t ask me to have dinner with you. It was more of a command.”
He took the card from her, fitted it into the lock, then after opening the door, stood back for her to enter the suite. “Considering you were about to take off, I didn’t feel that you gave me much of a choice.”
Turning to face him, she asked, “In other words, as a board member of Dakota Fortune, you were pulling rank on me?”
Shrugging one shoulder, he gave her a lopsided grin and pulled her into his arms. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but whatever works.”
Sasha caught her breath at the feel of his solid strength pressed against her from her breasts to her knees. “Wh-what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to kiss you good-night,” he said, his voice so low and hypnotic that she felt as if she’d spontaneously combust at any moment. “That’s usually the way a first date ends, honey.”
Before she could remind him that she didn’t consider their dinner a date, he lowered his head and captured her lips with his. That was when Sasha ceased thinking altogether and gave in to the temptation of once again experiencing the power of Blake’s sultry kiss.
Firm and commanding, his mouth moved over hers with a masterfulness that caused her head to spin. But when he parted her lips with his tongue to slip inside, he not only robbed her of breath, he left her with nothing but the ability to respond.
Tasting of wine and pure male desire, he explored her thoroughly as he stroked and teased. Sasha wondered if she’d ever be the same again when he slid his hands from her back along her sides and up to the swell of her breasts.
Her skin tingled when he broke the kiss to nibble his way to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat. “Y-you’re taking this … farther than a simple … good-night kiss,” she said, struggling to breathe.
“Do you want me to stop?”
His warm breath and the vibration of his masculine voice against her skin had Sasha feeling as if a spark ignited within her soul. But when he covered her breasts with his hands to test their weight and tease the suddenly tightened tips through the layers of her clothing, her body began to tremble and she had to force herself to concentrate on what he’d asked her.
“N-no … Y-yes.”
Why was she having such a hard time gathering her thoughts? And why couldn’t she tell him outright that she wanted him to stop?
“You want to know what I think, Sasha?”
“Not … really.” Drawing air into her lungs was becoming decidedly more difficult with each teasing brush of his thumbs over her taut nipples. And like it or not, she really didn’t want him to stop.
Moving his hands to her back to draw her more fully against him, he nuzzled the hair at her temple. “I think you need to get a good night’s sleep. If we’re going to visit a couple of museums and spend some time introducing you to some of the casino games, you’ll need your rest.” Kissing her forehead, he released her, then walked to the door. “Good night, Sasha.”
As she stood there waiting for her head to quit spinning, he turned to give her a smile warm enough to melt her bones. Then, just when she thought he was going to cross the room and take her back into his arms, he walked out into the hall and quietly pulled the door shut behind him.
Staring at the closed door for several long seconds, she finally managed to breathe normally as she slipped off her pumps and slowly made her way into the bedroom. She wasn’t certain her rubbery legs would support her for the short distance, let alone allow her to balance herself on a pair of high heels.
She should have left earlier in the evening as she’d intended, she thought as she changed out of her jade silk pantsuit and into her baby-doll pajamas. She was so far out of her league with Blake, they weren’t even in the same ballpark.
But as she unfastened the clip holding her hair in its tight chignon, then slipped between the crisp linen sheets on the big four-poster bed, she had to be honest with herself. Although she was completely out of her element with Blake, she’d never felt more exhilarated or alive in her entire life.
Blake pulled his cell phone from his belt as he pushed the breakfast cart down the hall toward the Riverboat Queen Suite. After walking Sasha back to her room last night, he’d spent several sleepless hours rethinking his approach for getting her into his bed and came to several conclusions.
Thanks to his brother, she was clearly wary of him and more than a little confused by his interest after all this time. That was why he’d have to pull out all the stops in romancing Sasha Kilgore. It might take a little more time than he’d anticipated, which didn’t set too well. But in retrospect, it would heighten the pleasure when they finally did make love.
Dialing directly into her room, he waited for Sasha to answer.
“Hello.” Her voice was slightly husky from sleep and caused an unexpected rush of heat to zing through his veins.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“Blake?”
“None other.”
“Why are you calling me at—” He heard the rustle of bed sheets and could imagine her sitting up in bed to push her hair out of her eyes and look at the clock. “Dear God, it’s only six-thirty.”
He laughed. “Get out of bed and open the door to your suite, Sasha.”
“Why?”
“Do you always ask this many questions?”
“Do you always answer a question with a question?” she retorted.
“Just open the damned door.”
“All right, but this had better be good,” she grumbled, hanging up the phone.
When she flung open the door a few moments later, Blake smiled as he pushed the cart into the room. Sasha looked about as sexy as he’d ever seen a woman. Her pretty face wore the blush of sleep and her long auburn hair tumbled well past her shoulders in a wild array of soft curls.
But it was the sight of her long slender legs that sent his blood pressure soaring. Her teal silk robe was one of those short numbers that ended about mid-thigh and revealed more than it covered.
Deciding that it would be in his best interest not to point out that particular fact, he opted for discussing her mood. “I take it you’re not a morning person.”
“And I take it you are.” Waving her hand toward the covered plates and silver coffee carafe, she arched one perfect eyebrow. “Please tell me that’s for someone else.”
“Can’t do that, sweetheart,” he said, taking plates from the cart to place then on the small table by the window. “I thought we would have breakfast together before we head out for the day.”
She frowned as she shook her head. “I never eat this early
