Free Honey and Smoke by Deborah Smith

“We’ll share a dance or two after the auction. We’ll very politely leave with our dates at the end of the evening.”
    He paused, one honey-brown eyebrow arching wickedly. “Then we’ll tell each of them some very polite reason why they have to go home, and we’ll rendezvous at your place.”
    He stroked his hands up her back and brought them to rest at the base of her head, his thumbs caressing the tender skin beneath her topaz earrings as he pulled her closer. “And then we’ll finish what we’ve started here. We’ll finish it repeatedly, all night. In every way that pleases you. Until all you have the energy to do is put your head on my shoulder and
fall
asleep.”
    The breath shuddered out of her in a long sigh. The images he had just painted made her legs weak, and she wondered how she’d stand without his strength and passion.
    The thought had unsettling implications. She had to stand alone, especially where Max was concerned. She’d known when she’d returned his kiss that it would only be a temporary indulgence, a sample of a glorious meal—but only a sample—for a starving woman.
    “Your … date,” she said slowly, her lips heavy from sensation. “She would have been in your bed tonight; she
will be
in your bed tonight if you’re not with me.”
    “No.” His gaze held hers with almost fierce defense. “There hasn’t been anyone else since I met you. There wouldn’t have been anyone tonight.”
    “Max, don’t—”
    “You sounded disappointed at the idea that I might take someone else to bed, but you don’t want to hear that I’m
not
taking anyone to bed because of you. Can’t you believe that I’m capable of being faithful, that I’m not promiscuous? I’m not interested in sleeping around. I want you, only you.”
    “For now, you mean. For tonight, and if we were happy after that, then for as long as we enjoyed each other’s company, on your terms.”
    “Can’t we just start with
tonight
, babe? Do you really want to stand here in the hall and plan the rest of our lives?”
    She forced her hands up to his shoulders and made them rest there lightly. “No, I don’t want to plan the rest of our lives,” she said with strained control, “but I don’t want to lie to myself.” She searched his eyes, and let him see all the sorrow and vulnerability in hers. “I already know that I could … love you. And I already know what I’d be hoping for if I did. And I know that it wouldn’t be what you’d want. And I have a feeling that I’d eventually be hurt in a way that would make the other time seem pleasant.”
    “With the musician,” he said flatly.
    “Yes.”
    “But you won’t—”
    “No. I won’t.”
    “I predict that you will. You
will
change your mind. Because we need to be together, and everything else is going to take care of itself.”
    She raised her chin and eyed him bitterly. “Oh? How will everything take care of itself? Will you and Hugh Hefner trade brain cells? Even
he
got married.”
    Max stepped back from her but lifted his hands to her ruffled hair and stroked it into place. He smiled thinly. “Thank you for taking a moment to discuss business with me, Betty. I won’t keep you from your dinner any longer. I might suggest that before you return to Mr. Steinberg, you venture to the ladies’ lounge and check your lipstick.”
    “I don’t have to. You’re wearing it.”
    “Indeed. You’re an animal.” He reached inside his jacket and retrieved a handkerchief. Wiping his mouth slowly, he nodded to her. “I look forward to discussing business with you again, soon.”
    When she returned to her chair, Jay asked slyly, “Are you in trouble with the law?”
    “Nothing I can’t settle out of court.” Betty tracked Max’s course through the crowded room as he returned to his table. “I think it’ll be safe for you to chase the redhead of your dreams tonight. I’ll make sure that Max introduces you to her.”
    “Oh? And what brought about