Shooting her a look of contempt—more for being accurate about the type of women I usually went for than fishing for information on a woman I had just met and wanted to get to know better—I held my silence.
“I’ve checked up on you, you know. I happen to know, you surround yourself with some gorgeous people. Lots of blonde bombshells.”
True, the women in my life were all quite beautiful.
“Is she a model?”
“No.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s a writer. Can we change the subject now?”
“All right, all right. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I hope you’re not this surly for your interview on Wednesday.”
“Interview?”
“Uh, yeah. You have an interview that will go up on social media sites. You’ll be asked about a lot more than your personal love interests.”
“What can you tell me about Elaine?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
“She’s really cool. Laid-back. Very kind. Very considerate.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “I just thought maybe she…was weird or something. I don’t know. I started reading Haunted Bonds, and I just wonder what sort of person thinks up the things she does.”
“Elaine is special. I’ve been a fan of hers for years. I was one of the first people to read her books and give them rave reviews. I made it my mission to get her works traditionally published. She’s extremely talented and humble.”
“Huh.”
For the second time in one day, I was finding myself intrigued with a woman—the first one, I couldn’t get out of my mind, and the second, I couldn’t figure out at all.
“You’ll see on Friday,” Mandy assured me.
“Can’t wait.” I found that to be completely true.
When I got back to my hotel room, I crashed.
I had planned on reading more Haunted Bonds, but I woke up with a little less than an hour to get ready for my dinner date with Xanthe. After a quick shower, I called her and told her to meet me in the lobby at seven o’clock.
“Please tell me it’s casual,” she begged.
Poor woman sounded exhausted.
“It’s casual,” I promised.
After hanging up, I suddenly wondered what Xanthe’s idea of casual was. On the plane, she had been a bit on the shabby side, and if she showed up wearing a similar outfit, I might be a bit upset—even if she did make it look cute.
Shit, when did I become such a snob?
Always in the height of fashion, I liked looking good.
Maybe I should tone it down a little.
Or maybe I shouldn’t let it bother me.
Xanthe was who she was, and if I was honest with myself, she had captivated me just as she had been. If she showed up wearing what she wore on the plane, then that was what I would get. I discovered that I wanted whatever she was willing to give.
Surprisingly nervous, I stood in the lobby, waiting for her. She wasn’t late. I was ten minutes early. I was dressed in dark jeans, a long-sleeved black shirt, and an olive-green denim jacket. I had decided not to style my hair, instead wearing a black beanie on my head. It was cold out, so I could get away with it.
Suddenly, I was wondering what she would think of my style, if she would like it.
Is she as nervous as I am? God, I fucking hoped so.
At exactly seven o’clock, the elevator doors opened, and Xanthe stepped out. I almost didn’t recognize her. Her thick hair was down—
Oh, wow.
Shiny, fat curls were tucked behind her left ear, cascading down around her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, and that excited me. I’d finally get the full blast of her hazel eyes. Dressed in a clingy burgundy sweater, tight jeans, and dark brown leather boots, she was…damn.
I loved her casual look.
“Hey,” she said softly as she came up to me.
If I didn’t stop smiling, my face was going to cramp. “Hey. Ready?”
“Yep.”
Xanthe was even more beautiful than I’d realized.
How did I not see this before? I had spent hours in her company. I had already thought she was stunning. The sight of her now damn near knocked the breath from me.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I found this restaurant I wanted to check out. Have you ever eaten Brazilian food?”
“Nope. But I’m not picky. I’m sure I’ll like it.”
Her smile was doing me in.
“Come on. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch.”
“With the boobs?”
“With the big boobs, yeah. And I’m starving.”
A fifteen-minute quiet cab ride brought us to the Brazilian restaurant, Churrasca. My nervousness had subsided when Xanthe showed up, but it seemed hers had kicked in when she saw me. Either that, or she was that tired and couldn’t be bothered with trying to make conversation.
“You all right?” I asked as the cab pulled to the curb.
She turned surprised eyes on me. “Yeah. You?”
I smiled. “I’m great,” I told her as I nudged her to get out of the car. I paid the driver, hearing Xanthe grumble about me paying all the fare through the open door.
“You really don’t have to keep paying my way, Ollie. It’s kind of weird,” she told me as I got out.
“It is not,” I stated. “And I don’t mind.”
“I’m paying for my own food,” she said stubbornly.
The hell you are, I thought.
We made our way to the door, which I opened for her, and because I simply couldn’t help myself, I placed my hand on her lower back as she walked past.
“Oh, damn,” she said softly as she breathed in the scents of roasting meats and herbs.
I had to agree. It reminded me of spending winters with my family in Brazil. I missed my mother’s food.
“Right?” I whispered in her ear.
She shifted just slightly closer to me. I breathed in her awesome spicy scent and went a little weak in the knees.
We were seated in a booth toward the back of the restaurant. The first course was a self-serve salad bar, so we dropped off our jackets, and for the first time, I noticed Xanthe hadn’t brought a purse. She did have a wallet stuffed in the back pocket of her tight jeans, and my eyes bugged when I took in the sight of her ass.
My God.
It took all my willpower to tear my eyes off it, so I could put food on my plate.
Xanthe made no bones about piling her plate sky-high. It was nice to be having a meal with a woman who actually enjoyed eating. As she approached the end of the salad bar, she forlornly looked around.
“What is it?” I asked.
She cleared her throat. “Is this it?”
“What do you mean?”
Glancing at her plate of ten different salads, she said, “I thought I smelled steak.”
Busting out laughing, I startled some of the patrons around us. Xanthe snorted a laugh, too, and raised her hand to cover her mouth in embarrassment. Right in that moment, I knew that this woman was going to be a danger to me, and I couldn’t care less. She was bewitching me, and the best part was, she wasn’t even trying to.
“Come on, carnivore. They come by the table with the steak after we finish the rabbit food.”