is, and she’s perfect for him.”
“They certainly didn’t waste any time deciding to marry, did they?”
She frowned. “Why should they?”
“No reason.” At her curious stare, he elaborated, “It’s just not like Natasha to be so brash. I mean she and Damien haven’t known each other long.”
“It doesn’t matter how long you know someone. When your heart tells you that you’ve found your soul mate, you have to listen to it.” Her eyes never left his as she delivered her double entendre that wasn’t lost on him. “Besides, we Johnsons are a decisive lot, and when we make up our minds, we go full steam ahead until we achieve our goal.”
“Yes.” He warily stared into her twinkling eyes. “I’m realizing that.”
“That’s good,” she softly approved.
Her sexy voice stroked him in all the deliciously wrong places. Why did he have to meet her now when he logically knew he couldn’t do anything about the obvious attraction they both felt? Why did she insist on making things harder by refusing to stay away from him as he had been trying so hard to stay away from her?
“I’m going to look at some wineglasses.” Needing some distance, he disentangled his hand from hers and walked away; of course, she followed him.
“Those are lovely,”
She leaned close to him, brushing her arm against his. The maddening scent of her perfume assailed his over-heightened senses. He wanted to grab her and kiss her desperately. He wanted to press her soft, yielding body close to his and plunder. He wanted... Damn! Get a hold of yourself, man!
“I think I like those better.” He pointed at a pair of champagne flutes a few feet away from her—to gain some space between them.
To his amazement, she stayed put, but when he glanced back at her, she was smiling amusedly as if she was completely aware of what his intentions had been.
* * *
“How about an early lunch?” Marcy suggested as they left the store a short while later, Nathan carrying her package and a set of Baccarat champagne flutes he had bought.
“I really have a lot to do today,” he replied.
That was a lie. The truth was he was enjoying himself with her much too much. He needed to get away from her bubbly, contagious, easy-to-be-with personality. If things were different, though...
“You have to eat, don’t you?” She interrupted his thoughts.
“I’ll just grab something later at the hotel.”
“Hotel food!” She screwed up her face in disgust. “Have you ever been there?” She pointed to the first restaurant she saw.
“No, but some other time,” he declined, preparing to hand her package to her and leave her on Hudson Street.
“There’s no time like the present.” Disregarding the shopping bag containing her gift, she took his free hand and guided him into the restaurant doors.
“Marcy, really...” His protest died on his lips as the hostess walked over to them.
“How many?” the woman asked.
“Two, please.” Marcy refused to release his hand until they were seated at a charming white linen-covered table for two with a view of downtown Manhattan. “Isn’t this lovely?”
He frowned at her. “Do you ever take no for an answer?”
“Not if I can help it,” she said as she treated him to a brilliant smile.
“What can I get you two to drink?” a white-coated waiter asked.
“Would you like to order the drinks, too?” Nathan grouchily asked.
“If you’d like me to,” she shot back, smiling at his obvious bad humor.
“I’ll have a Perrier with a twist,” he snapped without asking what she wanted.
“And you, ma’am?” The waiter turned to her after raising an eyebrow at Nathan’s rudeness.
“The same,” she said and smiled. Once the waiter disappeared, she picked up her menu. “Nathan, are you going to scowl all the way through lunch?”
“I don’t appreciate being forced into this.” He pointedly glanced at his menu.
“Forced?” A perfectly arched eyebrow rose. “Look at the two of us. I’m not even half your size.” She lowered her menu to the table and met his hooded eyes. “If you really wanted to decline, you could have easily done so.”
Of course he could have declined, but he hadn’t wanted to; therein lay his problem.
“Maybe I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he countered.
“How sweet.” She suddenly smiled.
“I am not sweet,” he quickly denied.
“We’ll see,” she softly promised. At his silence, she continued, “Nathan, it’s just an innocent lunch.”
“Nothing is innocent with you, Marcy Johnson,” he surmised and then suddenly smiled.
“Just plain Marcy,” she corrected. “You have a gorgeous smile.” She rested her chin on her clasped hands. “Why do you frown so much?”
“I don’t frown,” he disagreed. “I just don’t walk around grinning like an idiot all day long.”
She gazed into his deep chocolate eyes and was immediately lost. Lord, this man just frazzled her until she didn’t know her own name.
“No one could ever accuse you of being an idiot,” she charmed, sitting back in her chair. “Tell me about yourself.”
“There’s not much to tell,” he quickly countered, taking a grateful sip of the drink that was placed in front of him.
“Are you two ready to order?” their waiter asked.
“What are you going to have?” Nathan decided to be a gentleman this time.
“You order for me,” she suggested.
“I don’t know what you’d like.”
“Oh, I think you can figure out what I’d like,” she naughtily countered, eliciting a nervous cough from their waiter and slight chuckle from her date.
She was a breath of fresh air, and he absurdly wanted her like he had wanted no other woman. He’d love to see her by candlelight dressed to kill, smiling only for him as he took her into his arms to dance. Whoa, take it easy, man. You won’t be alone with her again, especially not for a romantic dinner—got it?
“The waiter’s waiting, Nathan,” Marcy interrupted his thoughts.
“Yes.”
