on every feature. Keena was suddenly thankful for the darkness between them and the sudden blare of a horn that had broken Nicholas’s steady gaze for just that instant.
“Damn city traffic,” he muttered half to himself. When he turned back to her, it was with a faintly puzzled expression. “Surely, you’ve had men tell you that before, that you’re beautiful? Scores of them, I’m afraid.” His words broke off abruptly, his gaze dropping to her slender body, outlining it with a masculine approval that was new and frightening.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked in a faint whisper.
His dark, quiet eyes eased back up to meet hers. “I was wondering what it would feel like to make love to you.”
HER TOES TINGLED. She’d never felt such a wild surge of emotion and it came up suddenly, stunning her.
Nicholas began to chuckle, the deep sound of it faintly irritating.
“My God, what an expression,” he murmured, leaning back against the seat with a heavy sigh. “I thought that would get your attention.”
She glared at him. “Now that you’ve got it, what are you going to do with it?” she asked grumpily.
He glanced at her. “Get you back to the present. I loathe self-pity. Wait until I’m in Paris. I’ve got enough problems of my own without your dragging new ones from the past.”
“What kind of problems?” she probed.
His lips compressed. “Maria.”
Maria was his mistress. Keena had read about the relationship in the gossip columns long before Nicholas had introduced the two of them. It shouldn’t have bothered her. He was, at forty, an active, virile man, and it would have been absurd to expect him not to have women. But one evening soon after he’d picked up the volatile brunette, Keena had seen them together in a popular night spot dancing so close that the fabric between them seemed to burn. And she’d begged her escort, a harmless young man who’d only lasted one date, to take her home. She couldn’t bear the sight. She’d hated the surge of jealousy, but it had persisted until even now she could hardly bear to hear Maria’s name.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“She won’t believe it’s over,” he said curtly. “She’s calling me in tears twice a day, moaning over the lonely life I’ve condemned her to. Lonely, my foot, with two diamond necklaces, a new Porshe and an ermine coat!”
“Maybe she really does miss you,” she muttered, able to be generous now that she knew he’d lost interest. She felt strangely relieved.
“She misses the Rolls, honey, not me.” He laughed shortly.
“Was it good in bed?” she asked, tongue in cheek, and darted a glance at him.
“The Rolls or me?” he replied, refusing to be ruffled.
“I imagine she misses the warmth,” she retorted, grinning at him.
His dark eyes smiled at her. “Do you think I’d be warm?”
“Like a blast furnace, I’d imagine,” she said demurely. “Is that why you’re going to Paris, to escape Maria?”
“It isn’t funny,” he said, the smile fading.
“No, I don’t suppose it is, to you.” She shot him a teasing glance. “But your love life is like one ongoing adventure to me. I really think you should assign the girls numbers or something so you can keep things in order.”
“I’m delighted that my private life amuses you so,” he said in a chilling voice.
“You could always tease me about mine,” she said grandly.
His dark eyes cut around toward her. “You don’t have one,” he said. “Not a love life, anyway.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What makes you so sure?”
“I keep a sharp eye on you, little one,” he said with a somber tone that startled her. “Sharper than you know. You don’t sleep around.”
She glared at him. “Maybe I should hire a private detective of my own!”
“What do you want to know?” he asked with a wicked grin. “Go ahead, ask me. I’ll tell you.”
She glared at him again. “I’d just love to ask you something so personal it would embarrass you to the roots of your hair.”
“Dream on, honey,” he returned with a smile.
She sized up his muscular, imposing physique. “I’ll bet you crush them,” she murmured absently.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is there only one position?” he asked in all innocence.
The blush started at her hairline, worked down into her cheeks, seeped into her throat and down into the plunging neckline of her dress. And he sat there and watched her and laughed softly, lazily, as if the sight delighted him.
“Instead of the theater, I’d better start taking you to some X-rated movies,” he murmured. “Your education is sadly lacking.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could manage a retort, he picked up her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. It was unexpected, and the sensation it caused made her heart turn over wildly. He caught her eyes, holding them in the dim confines of the car until she felt as if she’d never get her breath again.
He drew her forearm against his lips, sliding it past his rough cheek, holding her eyes the whole time, studying her like some rare and beautiful thing he’d captured.
“I use my elbows,” he whispered, drawing her imperceptibly closer, his voice caressing, seductive. “And I’ve never had a single complaint. Would you like me to prove it?”
Her heart was hammering wildly in her trembling body. She stared at him and couldn’t look away, and she was suddenly afraid.
“Little coward,” he murmured, watching the expressions chase each other in her eyes. “Are you really afraid of me?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m hungry,” she lied.
“For me?” he asked humorously.
She tore her hand out of his grasp and edged back into the corner by the door, glaring at him like some fierce little animal.
“You’re priceless,” he chuckled. “Did you think I was going to make a pass at you in front of Jimson?”
“Jimson is trained not to look,” she reminded him, her voice strangely breathless. “And it’s not kind of you to make fun of me.”
“I can’t help it. You rise to the bait so sweetly.” He cocked his head at her, his eyes watchful. “Haven’t
