didn’t bother to hide the fact that they had been interrupted, or the prominent evidence in his trousers. “I’d say otherwise,” he chimed in.
That was the last thing that needed to be voiced under her employee’s avid gaze. She glared at him, silently telling him to be quiet before facing Inga. “What did you need?”
Her assistant cleared her throat. “I emailed you the information on Stallon-E.”
Luca faced Bea with a frown. “You never said why you’re interested in Stallon-E.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Cars are my business, and so are you even though you refuse to admit it.” He arched his brow, daring her to contradict him, his sharp gaze unexpected for a playboy racecar driver. “I’m surprised that you’ve heard of them. What do you know of them?”
He asked with intensity she didn’t know he’d have outside the racetrack or bed. She tapped her fingers on the desk, wondering where it stemmed from. “I know nothing yet. That’s what the research is for.”
Luca studied her for a long silent moment. Then he said, “The London Motorexpo is this week, and Stallon-E is being featured. I can take you, if you wish.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Convenient, isn’t it?”
He shrugged, hands out as if to show he had nothing to hide. “You’re the one interested in the car. I’m merely giving you what you want.” He leaned in. “If you let me, I’d make it my purpose in life to give you everything you want.”
Inga made a strangled noise.
Bea glanced at her usually self-possessed assistant, who watched Luca with bright interest.
Scowling, she crossed her arms. “I only want to go to see this car.”
“The car, and dinner,” Luca countered, also crossing his arms.
She knew time was of the essence, and as ornamental as he was, Luca knew automobiles. He really was the perfect person to talk to about the viability of the automobile. So she arched her brow and said, “The car and dinner, and that’s it.”
Smiling slowly, he lowered his face so his lips hovered above hers and whispered, “That’ll never be it , Beatrice,” and then he kissed her like she was the main course. With a victor’s grin, he straightened and sauntered past Inga.
“Wow.” Her assistant fanned herself, her eyes still on the door.
Picking up her mobile, Bea gripped it tight, trying to get herself back under control. “That didn’t happen.”
“I’m fairly certain it did.” Inga flipped her hair. “And your blouse is buttoned wrong.”
Flushing, she redid her buttons. “Is that all?”
“I’d assume no.” Inga gave a knowing look and closed the door behind her.
Chapter Five
Luca saw Beatrice waiting for him from down the street. She sat on the red couch outside the restaurant, under the awning to avoid the drizzle, her golden hair shining under the restaurant’s light. Her mobile was in her hands, and her thumbs were tapping at it with amazing speed. Her legs were crossed, and her skirt had fallen open to reveal her thigh.
He’d kissed that thigh.
Luca hummed in his throat, wanting to kiss it again. She had luscious legs.
All of her was luscious. He’d never been the sort of man who had a fixation on any certain body part; he appreciated a woman as a whole¸ mind included. Without a sharp mind, the rest of it was wasted.
None of it was wasted on Beatrice Summerhill.
If it were up to him, he’d take her home and feast on her now. He’d slowly strip away her clothing and reservations and show her how perfect they were together.
If he could pry that mobile away from her.
He came to stand before her, waiting for her to acknowledge him.
“Just a minute,” she said in her clipped voice without looking up.
He frowned. He hated her mobile.
No, hate wasn’t the correct word. He resented the mobile. Perhaps he was even jealous. She had a relationship with that device that defied understanding. But he held no ill feelings toward the thing itself—it couldn’t help that
Larry Correia, Mike Kupari