He was about to speak when she settled her hand on his leg, just above his knee. His heart ricocheted for a few beats, pumping heat through him. When she’d said it was “his turn,” she’d obviously meant in more ways than one.
After taking a long swallow of water, he looked pointedly down at where her palm rested on his bare knee then said, “God knows I’m game, but I feel it only fair to warn you that I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to remain focused.”
Mischief danced in her eyes and her fingertips skimmed down his shin. “Turnabout is only fair.”
“I only touched your hand. So you’ll owe me.”
Her eyes darkened in a way that let him know she wasn’t averse to paying up, and what felt like half the blood in his body rushed to his groin. He shifted to relieve the ache and stretched out his leg to offer her freer access. And hoped he wouldn’t forget how to speak English.
“Ever hear of that expression ‘be careful what you wish for because you may just get it?’” he asked.
She smiled and circled her fingertips behind his knee. Holy crap. She’d barely touched him and he felt as if he were about to spontaneously combust. “Of course,” she said in a smoky voice. “I’m hoping it will apply to me and winning the lottery.”
With an effort, he shook his head. “Just trust me…you don’t want to say those words out loud.”
“Hmmm…I’ve found that when people say ‘just trust me’ I probably shouldn’t. Are you saying you won the lottery and that it sucks-’cause I’d have a hard time believing that.”
A hard time…thanks to her slowly roaming fingers, he knew all about a hard time. “Not the lottery. But after years of research, I reached a personal and professional goal. Sort of a scientific breakthrough.”
“That sounds like a good thing.”
“I agree. But I found out very quickly that a lot of bad stuff came with the good.”
Understanding dawned in her eyes-which he nearly missed because her fingertips brushed beneath the hem of his khaki shorts, glazing his eyes over. “Everyone suddenly wanted in on your breakthrough,” she said, and he thanked God his hearing was still operating. “Professional jealousy and all that.”
“Um, something like that, yes. And, like the person who wins the lottery, I suddenly found myself with lots and lots of ‘friends.’”
Her eyes twinkled. “Ah-ha. So you did win the lottery. Are you sure I won’t try to hit you up for a loan?”
“If you keep touching my leg like that, I’m apt to give you anything you want.”
Her fingers slid a bit higher on his leg and he sucked in a breath. “Good to know,” she murmured, drawing slow, drugging circles around his inner thigh.
“But to set the record straight, I didn’t win the lottery, and you’d be sorely disappointed in my bank balance.”
“So then these false friends are trying to ride your professional coattails and share in your glory?”
He nodded even though it was only half of the problem, the other part being the relentless pursuit by the cosmetics companies, but her touch was rapidly depleting his ability to prolong the conversation. “I felt as if I was being pulled in a dozen directions, and I was losing sight of what was important. Of who I was and what I wanted. I needed to get away. Far away. Clear my head.”
“No change, no gain.”
“Exactly.”
“So what other aspects of your life were out of balance?” she asked.
“Family and friendships are fine, and since I’m not married, that’s not an issue.”
“What about love and sex?”
“I’m completely unattached.”
Deciding two could play at this game, he leaned forward and reached beneath the table to lightly grasp her ankle, enjoying her quick intake of breath. “And one of the first people I meet is from the same city I just flew nearly four thousand miles to escape. Unbelievable.”
“Sorry. If I’d known you were trying to escape all reminders of home, I wouldn’t have said hello.”
He stroked his fingers up her silky calf, a move she answered by stroking her palm higher up his thigh. “If you hadn’t said hello that would have been my very great loss.”
“Maybe not. I think I probably would have said hello anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
“Fishing for compliments?”
He slipped his hand over her knee. “Shamefully.”
Her gaze roamed his face, then said softly, “Something about the way you were sitting there, your expression. You looked…” She shook her head. “I’m not sure how to describe it other than to say that you looked how I felt. Glad to be here, yet somehow…lonely.”
He studied her eyes and his stomach seemed to swoop downward, as if he were falling. Which, crazy as it sounded, was precisely how he felt-as if he was in an emotional free fall. He’d gone from zero to lust to halfway in love with this woman in a millisecond.
“I was lonely,” he said, softly stroking her knee, “although I hadn’t even realized it. But I’m not anymore.”
“I’m glad. But I would have said hello to you anyway because I also thought you were really cute.”
“Right back at ya. Except I don’t think cute really does you justice.”
“Oh? What would you say does?”
“Fishing for compliments?”
“Shamefully.”
After considering for several seconds, he said, “You possess an abundance of millihelens and microhelens.”
“Whatever that means.”
“You’ve heard of Helen of Troy?”
“The woman over whom the Trojan War was started?”
“That’s the one. It’s said that her face launched a thousand ships. In the Troy system of units, a millihelen is the amount of beauty required to launch one ship. A microhelen is roughly the amount of beauty needed to motivate one sailor.” His fingertips skimmed behind her knee. “You possess enough of both to launch an entire armada of ships and motivate an entire army of soldiers.”
A slow, sexy smile curved her lips. She tickled her fingertips across his thigh and he damn near forgot how to breathe. “Thank you. Looks like I’ll be giving you some more points for originality.”
“Excellent. How can I earn a few more?”
“You could dazzle me with some interesting scientific facts.”
“One square inch of skin contains six hundred and twenty-five sweat glands.” He edged his hand higher under her skirt and slowly traced his fingers up her thigh. He noted with satisfaction that her own fingers stilled on his leg and her pupils dilated when his fingers drew leisurely figure eights on her exquisitely soft skin.
“I believe it,” she murmured in a breathless voice. “I feel like every one of mine is pumping steam.”
Without taking his gaze from hers, he rose, then gently pulled her to her feet. Hidden in their private alcove in the back room, he drew her into his arms and slowly skimmed his hands down her back. “In the adult human body, there are forty-six miles of nerves. The most sensitive cluster of nerves is here…” He lightly massaged the small of her back, urging her closer, until their bodies touched from chest to knee. “At the base of the spine.”
“Fascinating,” she murmured, skimming her hands up his chest then looping her arms around his neck. “What else?”
“Minks have sex that lasts about eight hours.”
“Oh…my.”
“Moose intercourse usually lasts about five seconds.”
“Note to self…would much prefer to be a mink.”