It’s a real struggle, keeping a straight face. “I think that can be arranged. Your terms are more than fair.”
“I think so.”
I tip my head to the side. “Of course, I was prepared to give you a lot more than that. If only you had asked for it.”
He leans in, winking conspiratorially. “Haven’t you ever heard of renegotiating contracts further down the line?”
“I’m sorry, but my terms are final.”
The tips of his fingers skim the back of my hand. “There’s always room for renegotiation, darlin’.”
Darlin’. He called me darlin’, just like out of a cowboy movie.
“Have you decided?” Our server waits nearby with an expectant smile.
I guess she wouldn’t appreciate if I asked for a bed. Or even a couch in the back room. Hell, I would settle for a secluded booth because I want this man. Just the way he’s touching the back of my hand has me yearning for more.
Somehow, I manage to get through dinner without bursting into flames or melting into a puddle, and we are now in the car, headed back to my apartment.
“I know this sounds like the oldest excuse in the book, but I truly do have an early meeting in the morning.”
I only shake my head with a smirk. “Please. Don’t try to pull the oldest line in the book on a writer.”
“How can I make it up to you?” He helps me out of his car, and we leave the driver waiting out front while we dash up the steps and then up to my floor.
“You have nothing to make up to me. After a dinner like that?” I might not eat again for a week, but it was worth it. And much like when I dated Blake Marlin, my billionaire boss, there weren’t any prices on the menu. At least this time, I knew what to expect.
“But you did want to learn more about me, right?”
“Of course, but we have all week.” I narrow my eyes to slits when we reach my front door. “Unless you were planning on ghosting me after tonight.”
“Damn it.” He snaps his fingers with a frown. “You figured out my whole plan.”
“Laugh all you want, but it wouldn’t be the first time a guy did that to a girl.”
“Not this guy, little lady.” Before I know it, he has my face between his hands, and he isn’t laughing anymore. “No, Kitty, I have no intention of ghosting you after tonight. Book or no book.”
“I’m glad,” I whisper. “Book or no book.”
His eyes. Oh God, his eyes. I start to drown in them, but his hands on my face and his thumbs stroking my cheekbones pull me closer, and I’m saved as his mouth catches mine in the sweetest, most tender kiss that still somehow sparks a blaze in my core. All of him is in this kiss. It’s slow, skillful, the kiss of a man who knows who he is and what he wants and how to make a girl feel wanted and safe and taken care of.
His slow kiss turns into a heated frenzy of emotions, and it takes all the self-control I possess not to wrap my legs around him and take him to the floor. Just as I’m in need of air, he pulls back.
“Wow.” He clears his throat after what feels like an hour of kissing. “I sincerely wish I didn’t have to be up before the sun.”
“Me too.” I can barely stay on my feet; I’m so dizzy and winded. There can’t possibly be enough blood in my brain, what with all of it having traveled further south.
“I guess it’s for the best that I leave you now.” He glances across the hall. “I wouldn’t want your bulldog getting upset.”
“He’s a good guy. Protective but good.”
“Hmm.” He looks at me, brows raised. “All righty then. I’d better be going before the driver gets a ticket for sitting out there. What are you doing tomorrow night?”
I’d jump up and down if it wasn’t for these shoes. Knowing me, I’d break an ankle. “Getting together with you, if possible.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. What would you like to do? I don’t get to the city much, only one or two times before now, so all I know about it is what I’ve seen on TV and in the movies.”
“Leave it to me then.” I stand on my very tippy-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek and take a deep whiff of his cologne. It’s so masculine and musky and sexy; it drives me crazy.
It’s only when I’m alone in my apartment and the blood has flowed back to my brain that it hits me.
I have no idea what to do with a cowboy in the city.
CHAPTER SIX
“Wow. You really knocked it out of the park this time.”
“Thank you?” It feels kind of strange, accepting congratulations for the fact that Paxton happens to be gorgeous. I didn’t have anything to do with that.
“I’m just saying, if you don’t end up walking bowlegged after riding him or a horse—or preferably both at different times—when this is all over, there’s no hope for you.”
“Maggie”—I laugh—“you’re too much.” I’ve come to expect it from my editor.
“Is he going to take you home to see how he lives?”
“One thing at a time,” I beg. “I’m just glad last night went well. He’s a very sweet guy.”
“And sexy as hell.”
“Yes, that helps too.”
“Let’s see …” I can just about hear her tapping her nails on her desk as she ponders. “I think it would be fabulous to have sex in a barn, in the hay.”
“Fabulous? I mean, aren’t barns kind of smelly sometimes?”
“Come on. You can’t tell me the notion of being completely swept up in the moment—even if the moment takes place in a smelly barn—doesn’t appeal to you. Having this Paxton throw you down on the hay and tear your clothes off because he can’t be bothered to keep his hands off you for another minute.”
Okay, she might have a point.
“Maybe you’ll get really lucky and visit him when there are a bunch of men running around, working the farm, all sweaty and dirty, using their muscles and … sweating.”
“You already mentioned the sweating part.”
“It’s important.”
I can’t believe I’m about to ask her this, but she started it. “You aren’t one of those people who are into, you know, body stuff? Are you? Like, really sweaty, stinky men? No judgment.”
She bursts out laughing. “No! But all those muscular guys glistening in the sun? Come on, Valentine. Use your writer’s imagination.”
“Fair enough.” And to be honest, I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Paxton out there, doing all those sweaty, glistening things she’s talking about.
“Have you ever considered doing it on a tractor?”
“Okay, let’s get something straight. He lives on a ranch, for one thing, not a farm. I don’t even know if they use tractors. But even if they do, just because you want me to write a certain kind of scene in the book doesn’t mean that scene has to play out in real life. There are a lot of things I’m willing to do, but I don’t know about doing it out in the open. Sorry to disappoint you.” Not for the first time do I wonder why the woman has such an interest in my sex life.