Free Interlude by Desiree Holt Page A

familiar. But he waved again, and she thought, What the hell. She’d had plenty of fantasies about strange men. Maybe this was her chance to indulge herself. Tentatively, she made her way back to the booth.
    “Do I know you?” she asked, frowning, as she stood in front of him.
    He smiled, displaying even white teeth. A tiny dimple winked at the left corner of his sensual mouth.
    “Not yet. But you definitely look like someone who could use a drink, and as you can see, I’m wasting this booth sitting here by myself. Can I persuade you to join me?”
    As Lisa ran her eyes over him, an unexpected wave of lust raced through her body. Her nipples hardened and liquid seeped into her crotch. Pulses began to throb in the most improbable places.
    “Indulge me,” he said, his tone coaxing. “It isn’t often a beautiful woman walks through that door alone.”
    “That’s quite a line,” she told him.
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    “No line. You are beautiful. And very tempting. Come on. One drink. What can it hurt?”
    What can it hurt, indeed?
    “Okay. Yes.” The words popped out of her mouth before she could think. “Thank you.”
    The booth was curved, giving its occupants even more privacy. He stood, gesturing for her to slide in.
    She bit her lip, thinking she’d be safer on the outside then changed her mind. In for a penny, in for a pound , she thought.
    He took her umbrella from her and stuck it against the back edge of the booth before sitting down next to her.
    “You should take off that wet jacket,” he told her. “You don’t want to catch cold.”
    The jacket really wasn’t made to take off. The blouse she wore was a very sheer silk, a secret touch of femininity beneath the very business-like navy suit, along with the lacy bra and the barely-there bikini panties.
    “I’m fine,” she told him. “Thanks.”
    “I’d feel very remiss if I allowed you to get sick while in my company.” His deep voice was like warm chocolate syrup. “Let me help you. Besides, I want a better chance to appreciate your body. I think it was made to drive men crazy.”
    She laughed nervously. If this was a line, she wanted to hear more. And there was something about this man that ratcheted up all her senses.
    Holding her gaze with his, his lean fingers unbuttoned the jacket and slipped it from her shoulders. His eyes dropped at once to her breasts, and she knew he could see the darkness of her nipples beneath the thin fabric covering. His devouring gaze made heat crawl up her face.
    “Gorgeous,” he murmured then lifted his gaze to her face. “Breasts made to cradle in a man’s palm, and nipples just begging for his mouth. You must have men fighting to suckle them.”
    “Oh!” She was stunned. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had paid her breasts compliments.
    Or any other part of her body. They all wanted to know what she thought of them.
    “And what magnificent green eyes. Like emeralds. My favourite jewel, you know?””
    “Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. Besides the compliments taking her by surprise, she wasn’t used to people being this personal after only five minutes.
    “What would you like to drink?” he asked, signalling the lone waiter.
    She started to order wine then decided, if she was going to have an adventure, this was too tame.
    “Vodka stinger, please,” she told him.
    Under the table, she eased off the four-inch heels she wore each day to give herself some height. They were soaked from the rain and would probably be a bitch to get back on. Sighing, she wiggled her toes Page 6
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    then unfastened the clip that held back her hair and shook it loose, running her fingers through it.
    Freedom , she thought, taking a deep breath to relax.
    The man next to her sifted a few strands of her hair through his fingers. “Your hair is like