Come A Little Bit Closer
Page 20
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Smith didn’t claim to always understand women, but he wasn’t as clueless as some guys. Valentina had wanted that kiss...just as much as she hadn’t.
He wouldn’t let her regret it. But he couldn’t let her overthink it, either.
She kept her hand flat on his chest, almost as if she was bracing herself while her eyes cleared little by little. But then they clouded over again, this time with alarm.
She was pushing against his chest and saying, “Smith, I didn’t—” when he gently cut her off.
“I have something else for you.”
He forced himself to release her even though the caveman inside him told him he needed to finish claiming his woman before she could get away. During the past two decades, it had been easy to put love and relationships on the back burner. Even his longer, more serious relationships hadn’t ever been with someone he would sacrifice everything for, were nothing like what his parents or brothers and sisters had in their relationships.
But Smith knew chemistry. After all, it was his job to create it with each and every one of his co-stars. Yet, even to him, the chemistry between him and Valentina was extraordinary. And, whether she was ready to accept the truth of it or not, inevitable.
He never wanted to act out a part with her, and he never had before now, which meant he couldn’t force the easy smile he knew would help as he said, “I was going to give this to you tomorrow morning, but now seems like a better time.”
Smith could see the gears in her brain working, questioning why he’d sidestepped their kiss altogether...and, possibly, why he wasn’t asking for another one. Or to take things to the next level.
“I can’t accept any more gifts from you,” she said, the sensual quality of her voice that she usually held back in full force after their kiss.
What, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering even though it only made his unfulfilled desire for her more excruciating, would she sound like as she came apart in his arms, her neat and tidy hair messy from his hands and spread out across the pillow?
All of the blood that hadn’t already rushed south took a trip in that direction as he imagined the heat of her skin, the sexy rasp of her voice, as she lay sated and sweet beneath him in the few moments he’d give her to recover before he took her again.
He picked up a white envelope from his desk. “Let me give you one more, Valentina.”
She sucked in a sharp breath as if he’d just asked her for another kiss rather than to open the envelope to find out what was inside. And maybe that was why she finally took the envelope from him, because it was the lesser of two evils: the gift or his mouth back on hers.
She slid open the flap and pulled out two tickets. He saw the surprise first, and then the pleasure she couldn’t hide.
“Alcatraz? When I called they said all the tours were sold out for the next two months.” She looked back down and read the fine print. “These tickets are for tomorrow night.”
“I haven’t been to Alcatraz since my fourth-grade field trip.”
She gripped the tickets tighter. Again, he watched her gears churn. Up, down. Forward, back.
Finally, she said, “The fourth grade was a long time ago.”
“It sure was. My memory is pretty fuzzy by now.”
He didn’t want to force her to take him with her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn her down when good manners dictated she do just that.
With the grace and poise she radiated everywhere from the boardroom to the set, she finally asked him, “Would you like to see it again?”
“I sure would.”
He thought she gave a small sigh of resignation before she said, “Okay, then. Why don’t you join me?”
He didn’t have to force his smile this time. “I’d love to.”
“I should get back to my office.” But instead of moving toward the door, she said, “About that kiss.”
“It was a great kiss, wasn’t it?”
She flushed, but didn’t try to deny that he was speaking the truth. “Yes,” she said in that innately super-sexy voice that put him right back on the edge of grabbing her for another one, “it was a great kiss. But—”
“I want to kiss you again, too, Valentina.”
She made a sound of frustration and even that had his body reacting. “Whether you or I enjoyed the kiss is irrelevant. I can’t kiss you again.” Before he could do anything more than raise his eyebrows at her emphatic statement that they both knew didn’t do a darn thing to erase the heat between them, she said, “And you know why. We’ve already talked about this.”
“We did,” he agreed, “but why don’t you tell me again why you won’t go on a date with me.”
“You’re an actor.”
Smith had been telling stories for long enough to know a thing or two about pacing. The time had been right earlier to take a kiss they’d both needed, and then, on the heels of all that heat, to push her for the invite to Alcatraz. He figured he had just a little more wiggle room left.
“After that kiss, I think you’ll agree that I deserve another reason, one that doesn’t lump me in with a bunch of self-obsessed scum.”
“You’re one of the biggest movie stars in the world, and people are dying to know anything they can about you, including whom you choose to date.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine anything worse than being in the spotlight. And if I were to go out on date with you, that’s exactly where I’d end up. “
Of all the problems Smith had with finding the right woman these past few years, this hadn’t been one of them. The women in his world always loved the spotlight, so much that he’d wondered if he’d ever find one who wanted him for any other reason.
But he didn’t doubt for one second that Valentina was telling him the truth. Especially not when she’d said “I can’t imagine anything worse than being in the spotlight” with such vehemence.
“Look,” she said in a much gentler tone, “we have to work together for the next few weeks. If we’re going to go see Alcatraz together tomorrow, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be under the false assumption that this,” she gestured between the two of them, “is ever going to happen again.”
At thirty-six, Smith had fame, he’d made a fortune, he’d traveled and partied and thrown himself into his work for two decades. Now he was ready for what came next: to be with a woman he not only desired, but with whom he could share his life, his dreams. A woman with whom he could grow old. He was also ready for kids to play with on the beach, to throw balls with in the park, to let loose with their cousins at a family party.
He wouldn’t let her regret it. But he couldn’t let her overthink it, either.
She kept her hand flat on his chest, almost as if she was bracing herself while her eyes cleared little by little. But then they clouded over again, this time with alarm.
She was pushing against his chest and saying, “Smith, I didn’t—” when he gently cut her off.
“I have something else for you.”
He forced himself to release her even though the caveman inside him told him he needed to finish claiming his woman before she could get away. During the past two decades, it had been easy to put love and relationships on the back burner. Even his longer, more serious relationships hadn’t ever been with someone he would sacrifice everything for, were nothing like what his parents or brothers and sisters had in their relationships.
But Smith knew chemistry. After all, it was his job to create it with each and every one of his co-stars. Yet, even to him, the chemistry between him and Valentina was extraordinary. And, whether she was ready to accept the truth of it or not, inevitable.
He never wanted to act out a part with her, and he never had before now, which meant he couldn’t force the easy smile he knew would help as he said, “I was going to give this to you tomorrow morning, but now seems like a better time.”
Smith could see the gears in her brain working, questioning why he’d sidestepped their kiss altogether...and, possibly, why he wasn’t asking for another one. Or to take things to the next level.
“I can’t accept any more gifts from you,” she said, the sensual quality of her voice that she usually held back in full force after their kiss.
What, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering even though it only made his unfulfilled desire for her more excruciating, would she sound like as she came apart in his arms, her neat and tidy hair messy from his hands and spread out across the pillow?
All of the blood that hadn’t already rushed south took a trip in that direction as he imagined the heat of her skin, the sexy rasp of her voice, as she lay sated and sweet beneath him in the few moments he’d give her to recover before he took her again.
He picked up a white envelope from his desk. “Let me give you one more, Valentina.”
She sucked in a sharp breath as if he’d just asked her for another kiss rather than to open the envelope to find out what was inside. And maybe that was why she finally took the envelope from him, because it was the lesser of two evils: the gift or his mouth back on hers.
She slid open the flap and pulled out two tickets. He saw the surprise first, and then the pleasure she couldn’t hide.
“Alcatraz? When I called they said all the tours were sold out for the next two months.” She looked back down and read the fine print. “These tickets are for tomorrow night.”
“I haven’t been to Alcatraz since my fourth-grade field trip.”
She gripped the tickets tighter. Again, he watched her gears churn. Up, down. Forward, back.
Finally, she said, “The fourth grade was a long time ago.”
“It sure was. My memory is pretty fuzzy by now.”
He didn’t want to force her to take him with her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn her down when good manners dictated she do just that.
With the grace and poise she radiated everywhere from the boardroom to the set, she finally asked him, “Would you like to see it again?”
“I sure would.”
He thought she gave a small sigh of resignation before she said, “Okay, then. Why don’t you join me?”
He didn’t have to force his smile this time. “I’d love to.”
“I should get back to my office.” But instead of moving toward the door, she said, “About that kiss.”
“It was a great kiss, wasn’t it?”
She flushed, but didn’t try to deny that he was speaking the truth. “Yes,” she said in that innately super-sexy voice that put him right back on the edge of grabbing her for another one, “it was a great kiss. But—”
“I want to kiss you again, too, Valentina.”
She made a sound of frustration and even that had his body reacting. “Whether you or I enjoyed the kiss is irrelevant. I can’t kiss you again.” Before he could do anything more than raise his eyebrows at her emphatic statement that they both knew didn’t do a darn thing to erase the heat between them, she said, “And you know why. We’ve already talked about this.”
“We did,” he agreed, “but why don’t you tell me again why you won’t go on a date with me.”
“You’re an actor.”
Smith had been telling stories for long enough to know a thing or two about pacing. The time had been right earlier to take a kiss they’d both needed, and then, on the heels of all that heat, to push her for the invite to Alcatraz. He figured he had just a little more wiggle room left.
“After that kiss, I think you’ll agree that I deserve another reason, one that doesn’t lump me in with a bunch of self-obsessed scum.”
“You’re one of the biggest movie stars in the world, and people are dying to know anything they can about you, including whom you choose to date.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine anything worse than being in the spotlight. And if I were to go out on date with you, that’s exactly where I’d end up. “
Of all the problems Smith had with finding the right woman these past few years, this hadn’t been one of them. The women in his world always loved the spotlight, so much that he’d wondered if he’d ever find one who wanted him for any other reason.
But he didn’t doubt for one second that Valentina was telling him the truth. Especially not when she’d said “I can’t imagine anything worse than being in the spotlight” with such vehemence.
“Look,” she said in a much gentler tone, “we have to work together for the next few weeks. If we’re going to go see Alcatraz together tomorrow, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be under the false assumption that this,” she gestured between the two of them, “is ever going to happen again.”
At thirty-six, Smith had fame, he’d made a fortune, he’d traveled and partied and thrown himself into his work for two decades. Now he was ready for what came next: to be with a woman he not only desired, but with whom he could share his life, his dreams. A woman with whom he could grow old. He was also ready for kids to play with on the beach, to throw balls with in the park, to let loose with their cousins at a family party.
