eyes widened in awe. Gabe was clearly a young man, and making partner at a law firm was quite an accomplishment. “That’s awesome. Where do you work?”
He shook his head. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about work?”
“You’re right,” she said.
“But I guess there’s something else I’m celebrating,” he told her, his voice dropping to a dangerously low and sexy murmur, as he tilted his head toward her.
She inhaled another lungful of his light, but spicy cologne. Ellie had never been a connoisseur of male cologne, but she needed to know what Gabe used, so she could cover her pillow and everything else she owned in the scent. “And what’s that?” she asked, her voice an almost breathless whisper.
He grinned and leaned closer, bringing his lips to her ear. “Meeting you,” he said with a whisper. His breath warmed her skin, dancing over the sensitized nerve endings of her throat.
The sheer cheesiness of the line made her eyes roll. “Oh please.” Ellie laughed and lightly pushed his shoulder. But touching him proved to be a mistake, because instead of removing her hand, she smoothed her palm over his chest, under his jacket, over the fine material of his shirt. His chest was firm, warm, solid muscle. The man worked out. But when he put his hand on top of hers, stopping the movement, trapping her hand in the spot over his heart, she could feel a gentle thrum travel through her, until it settled in a pool of desire between her thighs. So in tune with Gabe was she that she was sure she could hear the beating of his heart—maybe it was her own—and their eyes connected as the rest of the room disappeared.
Ellie’s mouth went dry and a heat radiated from her chest upward. Gone was the moment of levity they’d shared, the air heavy with sensuality. She was so caught up in the man—the stranger—sitting beside her that she failed to notice the server approach. She backed up and, startled, reluctantly pulled away from Gabe, as the waitress presented the bottle and poured them each a glass before placing it in the ice bucket and quietly walking away.
Alone again, Gabe passed her one of the glasses and took the opportunity to sit closer to her, shifting to more fully face her in the center of the booth, placing his arm across the back. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she could feel his proximity, his gravity forcing her closer, drawing her near. She couldn’t fight it if she wanted to—she didn’t want to—so Ellie pivoted her body in his direction, crossing her legs, bringing her calves into contact with his shin. They didn’t speak, but Ellie could feel the waves of sexual tension that radiated between them.
Gabe held his glass aloft. “To us.”
“To new starts,” she added, clinking her glass with his.
They sipped their champagne, watching each other over the rims of their glasses, and she sighed when Gabe made the first move, dropping his hand on her thigh.
“You know, I’m pretty sure you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he told her.
High-class club or dive bar, men, it seemed, were the same all over. She rolled her eyes. “That’s original,” she told him. Ellie wondered how many women fell for a line, especially when it was uttered by a man who looked like Gabe. He would have to do better than that.
“Okay, what if I asked you if your legs were tired?”
“Or if it hurt when I fell from heaven?”
“Well, that’s it, I guess.” He moved his arm away and shrugged. She missed his warmth almost immediately, and all she wanted was for him to put his arm back, to touch her again. “Those are all of my good lines.” He laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the space around them, and he raised his glass to his mouth and drained it. He leaned toward the table and poured himself another. “More?”
“Yeah. Thanks,” she said, holding her own now-empty glass out. He filled it and she sipped again. The carbonated bubbles tickled her nose.
Gabe’s hand found her thigh again, and somehow, through the lust-and-champagne-heavy fog, a moment of clarity shone through. Ellie backed away slightly. “Wait a minute,” she said, and he removed his hand, leaning away from her, thankfully giving her the space she needed, where she wasn’t under the influence of him and whatever cologne he was wearing. But when she caught her breath, all she longed for was another indulgent breath of him.
But she didn’t do this. Ellie Carrington didn’t fall so hard for men. She didn’t chase them. She didn’t jump into bed with just any good-looking guy. She needed to keep her cool. She wanted Gabe, and she could tell he wanted her. But he was going to have to work for it. She couldn’t let him know that he’d already won her over.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Don’t think that just because you got us this table and forked over way too much money for this bottle of champagne, I’m going to sleep with you,” she warned him. Even though Ellie would probably end the evening riding him like a cowgirl, he didn’t have to know it would be that easy.
A quick grin split his face. Those dimples again. “What makes you think I’m going to ask to sleep with you?”
She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her thigh. “The way you’re looking at me, the expensive champagne. Stuff like that normally comes with a price, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I know what you mean, but maybe I’m thirsty.”
“I’ll bet you are.” She quirked an eyebrow and he laughed.
“Maybe I wanted to share a drink with a beautiful woman.” He took a drink from his glass, as if to prove his point. “But so we’re clear, Ellie, there’s no obligation on either of our parts here. We can just sit here, two strangers sharing a bottle of champagne. And if the evening leads to more—and I hope it does—that’s great. If not...” he shrugged and drank again. “Who knows, later tonight you might be begging me to fuck you—” she nearly crumbled at his use of the word, but he shook his head “—and I’ll just put you in a cab to go home.”
Ellie laughed, knowing he was full of it. She could see the way that he looked at her, the way he’d caressed her thigh, and knew that if she was willing, there was no way he’d be putting her in a car. At that moment, Ellie knew that she would end up in bed with this man that evening. There was no other option. She felt powerless to the hold he had over her, his captivating emerald eyes, the upward curve of his lush lips. Ellie didn’t make a habit of sleeping around, or having one-night stands—nor would she judge anyone who did—not since she’d left her partying days behind her, but as she watched Gabe over the rim of her glass, she knew she would make an exception for him. Ellie was intrigued by Gabe, and she liked him already. So, she decided not to fight whatever was happening between them, and drank her champagne instead.
* * *
After an hour, the lights at the bar had dimmed a little, setting a more intimate mood. Gabe poured the last few drops of champagne into his glass, returned the bottle to the ice bucket upside down, and settled back in the booth, feeling as mellow and relaxed as he possibly could with the intense hum of desire buzzing through him. Ellie had kept her position, turned facing him, her long legs curled so her feet were underneath her, knees resting on his thigh, dangerously close to his dick.
He wasn’t sure when he’d last enjoyed the company of a woman like Ellie. She was gorgeous and sexy, but she was also smart, quick, funny, and they shared some sort
