of the display case and bent toward it, waiting for him to point something out.
He didn’t. He just stood there, looking down at her.
“Do you want to sample something before you decide? I can offer you a free taste.”
Seriously? Again? Just tear open your sweater and offer a nipple. That would be about as subtle.
Claire had no idea why the man turned her into an idiot, but had to assume it was because she just hadn’t figured him out yet. Or because he kissed like he’d freaking invented kissing.
His lips twitched, as if he’d read her mind and knew she was mad at herself for offering these so-not-subtle innuendos.
“As much as I’d love to taste anything you might offer, I actually came here for another reason.”
Feeling heat burning her cheeks, she straightened and slid the case closed with a snap. “Oh?”
He nodded. “We’ve finished moving in, and I find I need to look around the city, to make sure I do want to attend the university here.”
“Which one?”
He hesitated. “The New York one.”
“New York University—NYU—is a great school.” The guy seemed too old for an undergrad, so she assumed he was going for a postgraduate degree. “How can I help?”
“Come out with me and teach me all there is to know about your city.”
Her heart thudded. He wasn’t here asking for directions, or to buy something to satisfy a sweet tooth. “You want me to…”
“Yes, Claire. I want you to go out with me. Tonight. Now.”
She blinked, wondering if that was an invitation, a request or a command. It sounded like all three.
Surprisingly, she hadn’t immediately said no. In fact, a hearty yes had tried to leap to her lips, but she’d swallowed the word, knowing she shouldn’t get any more involved with this man.
“I’ve got to close the shop.”
“It’s past closing time,” he pointed out.
So it was. She hadn’t even noticed. Nor, it appeared, had Jeannie, who was busy chatting up Philip’s buddy, who sat at a small café table, his hands curled around a cup of hot coffee.
“I have work to do in the kitchen, orders for tomorrow.”
“How long will that take?”
She thought about it. Mrs. West had been working this afternoon and had taken care of the basics. But there were some specialty jobs she didn’t trust to anybody but herself. “Probably a couple of hours.”
“Very well. Shall we say half past eight?”
A little over two hours from now. Yes, she supposed that was possible. She also supposed it was possible she could get up extra early tomorrow and do the orders. Which would leave her time now to shower, shave her legs, fix her hair, do her makeup, find something fabulous to wear, and talk herself into actually going through with it.
Oh, hell, who was she kidding? Her inner voice—the part of her that didn’t always want to be careful and responsible and protective—had already decided.
For once, she wasn’t going to be the sensible, always-thinking-of-everyone-else Claire. She was going to think of herself, to do something she wanted to do for a change, rather than what she was supposed to do.
She was going to go out with Mr. Dark and Dangerous.
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