“I did it,” she said, beaming, with her dazzling blue eyes aglow as she spun to face him.
He dipped his head in acknowledgement of her victory. “Indeed you did. Well done, Miss Smith. You’re a natural at this.”
She seemed to like that compliment for her face lit up even more. “I’ll have one more go before we start playing. All right?”
“As you wish,” he murmured and settled back into his previous position. Other games were underway at two other tables, but Steven’s attention remained on the woman before him. Her beauty and enthusiasm were a spellbinding combination.
She rounded the table, swept her gaze across it while taking stock of each ball’s position. Then, making her decision, she leaned forward and…
Every cell in Steven’s body tightened. His mouth went dry as desire whipped his blood into a hot frenzy. Muscles flexed, struggling against the invisible bond of propriety. How could they not when she was affording him the most delectable view of full breasts he’d ever seen. Nestled against her corset and bodice, they appeared like a pair of delicious peaches – soft, sweet, and a perfect fit for his hands.
Lord have mercy on his soul.
“Good God,” came a nearby murmur.
Steven reluctantly turned to discover that he was not the only man in the room admiring Miss Smith’s lovely attributes. Two other men stood with their eyes fixed upon her.
Steven pushed himself away from the pillar and scowled at them both. “Might I suggest you focus on your own game?”
“But—”
“Alternatively,” Steven said, “I can commandeer this room for a private event.”
The two men grumbled their protests while glaring at Steven, but turned away and returned their attention to their own table. A peal of enthusiasm rose from behind Steven and when he turned, Miss Smith was hopping about like a child who’d just received a long desired toy.
Damn. He’d missed her shot along with a few more seconds of blissful appreciation. He blew out a frustrated breath and gripped his cue with added firmness. “Ready for a match?”
“I think so.”
He stepped away from the pillar on unsteady feet while doing his best to ignore the simmering need still lingering under his skin. It was imperative he not get carried away when he did not know who she really was, when everything about her suggested she was as innocent as new fallen snow, when she would be leaving next week.
“Which do you prefer,” he asked after clearing his throat. “The plain white cue ball or the one with the dot?”
“The one with the dot,” she said with unwavering certainty.
The sparkle in her eyes blinded him for a moment. He shook his head, forced himself to focus by giving her a quick rundown of the remaining rules. They agreed to play to thirty points for the first game and took their positions for the lag to see which one of them would go first – a contest Steven won by more than an inch.
The game between them proceeded with Steven swiftly sinking three consecutive balls into nearby pockets before Miss Smith got her first turn, putting him ahead by eight points. But rather than sulk or complain, she cheered him on, celebrating his every success as she would her own. It was not only at odds with every other competitive experience he’d ever had, but also incredibly pleasant.
“Well done, Mr. Donahue. That was fantastic!”
A smile of appreciation slid into place. “Your turn, Miss Smith. Remember, you have to shoot your cue ball up the table first. Let it bounce off the foot rail and roll back toward your target.”
She moved into position and he gave the room a quick sweep with his gaze to make sure none of the other men watched her. But the two he’d reprimanded earlier were now gone, leaving only a couple of older gents whose wives no doubt stopped their gazes from straying.
Miss Smith propelled her cue ball forward as he’d instructed, but failed to strike the other two balls. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me try again?”
He grinned in response to her playful tone. “Not until I’ve had my go.”
“Very well then.”
He pocketed her cue ball with ease but failed when he tried to sink the red one next. She sent him a wicked smile filled with sheer determination as she came toward him, taking up her position immediately in front of where he stood.
She leaned over and Steven groaned. Not deliberately, but damn if he could hold back the needy sound when she put her bottom on such suggestive display. An ache settled deep within him, building in strength as an unbidden fantasy sprang to life, of him stepping forward and grabbing her by her hips, of pressing himself into her lush curves and—
Another groan tore from his throat, this time on account of an unexpected jab to his stomach.
“Goodness me,” Miss Smith exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Donahue. Are you all right?”
He winced and attempted a smile while nodding. “It’s my fault entirely, Miss Smith. I shouldn’t have stood so close.”
He hadn’t been initially, but like a desert wanderer drawn to an oasis, his feet had moved of their own accord while all those improper thoughts swamped his brain. Basic instinct had guided his actions and now he was being punished, with a sharp hit delivered by Miss Smith’s cue stick.
“Nevertheless,” she said, her eyes wide with concern. “I should have checked my surroundings first.”
“I’ll, um…move over there,” he said, deciding some added distance between them would probably be for the best.
“You’re sure you’re all right? We can stop if you like.”
“No. Let’s continue.” The ache wasn’t all that bad. It would quickly abate and besides, he was far from ready to say good night to Miss Smith when she was currently offering him the best evening he’d had in years.
13
This was by far the best evening Calista had ever had. She’d never enjoyed herself quite so thoroughly. The game had been a brilliant idea on Mr. Donahue’s part. It allowed her to compete against a man on equal footing, which was something she’d never done before. And she loved it – loved the competitive thrill along with the confidence he instilled in her as he applauded her efforts.
She loved his company too – all that seriousness melting away beneath laughter and smiles. Pleasure bloomed in her breast at the realization that she’d been the one to dissolve the granite façade he’d worn since they first met. He’d worn it again this evening until their conversation forced his lips into gentler curves and softened his eyes.
Still, as the evening progressed, she grew increasingly conscious of an underlying tension between them. It wasn’t the sort one experienced during a quarrel, or when keeping company with a person one couldn’t relate to. Nor was it unwelcome but rather…exciting.
It enhanced her awareness, alerting her to his proximity and to the weight of his regard. Which remained upon her as she resumed her position and took her aim once more. He’d shifted so he was no longer behind her but slightly to one side, and although she kept her eyes trained on the table and the red ball that awaited, heat swept the length of her back, nestling at the base of her neck, as if Mr. Donahue’s gaze caressed her.
Calista’s heartbeats quickened. She sucked in a breath and tightened her hold on the cue stick, steadying herself before propelling the tip of the stick forward. The red ball spun and rolled with perfect equilibrium before disappearing into the corner pocket.