not evil, Ryan. It’s generous and wonderful, but arrogant, and you don’t know whether you’re getting us into a lasting relationship or not.”
“Who knows that for certain when they marry?” he asked, but she focused on his mouth and couldn’t think about his question.
“I’d like you in my arms and in my bed,” he said. “I want to love you and I don’t intend to wait.” He touched her cheek lightly. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Her heart thudded at the last and she couldn’t get her breath. She ached to reach for him, yet knew this wasn’t the time nor place.
“You’re a handsome charmer who weaves spells,” she accused. “I’m caught in one and don’t like it.”
“Stop fighting me. Stop resisting both of us. You feel some of what I do. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice and feel it in your throbbing veins.”
She turned away. “That has little to do with what I want,” she said.
She saw him study her. “Did you go to work today?”
“Yes, I did,” she replied stiffly.
“That surprises me. I thought you might stay home.”
“I left the office early,” she said coolly. “And I didn’t share my plans with anyone.”
“Did you leave ahead of time to get ready for tonight, or because you couldn’t work for thinking about our marriage?”
“If you must know, I couldn’t work. It was not to get ready for a big evening out with you,” she lied.
He fanned himself with his hand. “If mere looks could set me on fire, I’d be blazing away right now.”
“You’re immune to looks from me.”
“Au contraire,” he said in a lower voice, leaning forward. “You give me looks that can melt me or fry me to a crisp.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said, but there wasn’t any firmness in her voice, and warmth stole along her veins at his statement. Could she really have that effect on him? She turned away to look out the window in silence.
When they flew over Houston, the sun had set and lights had blinked on, a dazzling display far below. Ashley watched for a few minutes, entranced by the sparkle before she turned around. Her heart missed a beat when she met Ryan’s steady gaze.
“I wondered if you’re as dazzled as I am by this scene out the window, but I see you’re not. You’re burned out on flying, I suppose.”
“No,” he said, leaning closer. “I’ll never get enough of this view,” he said, looking directly at her.
She inhaled swiftly. “Stop flirting, Ryan.”
“Why? That’s the sizzle in life—getting to flirt with you, seeing where I can go with it, letting my imagination run.”
She smiled and received an enticing, warm grin from him as he leaned forward to touch the corner of her mouth with the tip of his finger. “That’s more like it.”
The announcement from the pilot about landing broke into their conversation, and they both tightened their seat belts.
A uniformed driver in a limousine met Ryan and Ashley and drove them to a hotel. At the top-floor restaurant they were seated at a linen-covered table in a quiet corner. A pianist played old favorites in the background; candles burned at the tables; and fresh roses filled the centerpiece vases.
“If you’re trying to impress me, you’re succeeding,” she said, watching two couples circling the small dance floor across the room.
“Good. I hope I can impress you a great deal more than this.” Candlelight flickered, highlighting his prominent cheekbones and causing his black lashes to cast shadows there. If only he hadn’t insisted on marriage, she thought, and then realized she was succumbing to the seductive trappings and to Ryan.
Their waiter brought menus, and after they had placed orders and were alone, Ryan stood and took her hand. “Let’s dance before dinner,” he suggested. Her immediate reaction was eagerness, swiftly tempered by caution as she placed her hand in his and went to the dance floor.
She walked into his arms and into memories of his lean, muscular body.
This was the second time she’d danced with him and it opened a Pandora’s box of devilish longing that taunted her. Yet she was as conscious of the present as the past. She was aware of the warmth of his body, the cottony smell of his freshly laundered shirt, the strong column of his neck where her hand rested. Their legs brushed and she looked up to meet his gaze, and then couldn’t look away, caught completely, enveloped in desire.
“Stop fighting me, Ashley,” he whispered. “We’re good together, and you know it. And this is the best of all possible solutions.”
“Solutions? There, that says it all,” she exclaimed. “Am I the problem? Is the baby a problem?”
“I’m going to try my damnedest to win you over, because I know it’ll be worth every minute and all my efforts.”
He pulled her closer, wrapping her in his arms and putting his head against hers. Dancing was marvelous, another irresistible temptation with him. She relished being in his embrace and swaying with him, and there was no way she could deny it. Recollections swirled like smoke as she recalled too clearly being held close in his embrace when they had been naked in bed. Steadily and slowly, bit by bit, he was taking chunks of her heart now.
When the song stopped, a faster number started and Ashley danced with him, sexual tension building as she watched him move around her. The devouring looks he gave her made her fluttery and conjured up more memories of seductive moments with him. She felt needed and knew he had turned on the charm to get what he wished, but underneath all that appeal was a man of steel who was going to get his way no matter what he had to do.
With a pounding heart, she gazed up at him and wanted him. In spite of all her anger, she thrilled to his kisses and enjoyed being with him.
When the dance ended, she turned abruptly for their table. He caught up with her and took her arm.
“Now maybe I’ve worked up some kind of appetite,” he said when they’d sat. In minutes, he had his red wine and her water poured. He raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to a fabulous marriage,” he said, waiting while she glared at him.
“How can you toast a sham marriage when you’ve coerced me into accepting?”
“Make the best of it,” he said lightly, still waiting.
Exasperated, she picked up her glass, touched his and took a sip.
With deliberation he set down his glass and reached across the table. “Give me your hand.”
Mystified, she did as he asked, watching his warm fingers encircle hers. “Since when do you want to hold hands through dinner? But then, I don’t really know you.”
“You
