Free Adam's Apple (Touch of Tantra #1) by Liv Morris Page B

“Just following up on your mother’s suggestion.”
    "Cut the ‘good afternoon’ crap. You really are something, Mr. Kingsley. Standing here waiting for me as if nothing seems out of place." She snarls out a laugh. "I’d ask how you found me, but at this point I have a feeling you know everything about me anyway. Probably even down to my bra size and favorite cologne." Smirking, she walks closer, almost touching me. A preferable position.
    "That's easy. D cup. Shalimar, and you’re a Tantra instructor." The bra size and perfume guesses don’t faze her, but she appears surprised or maybe a bit uneasy when I mention Tantra.
    “Oh my God, you do know everything.” She knits her brow and shakes her head at me in disbelief.
    "I confess to knowing a bit about you, but I still don’t know the answer to my question: Dinner?" Raising my brow, I smile encouragingly at her. Usually this combination wins me the right answer, but with her everything is up in the air.
    "Well, Mr. Kingsley, you're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" She laughs and I nod in agreement, knowing it's one of my innate traits. Insecurity isn’t a feeling I experience, and the lack of it has served me well. "But don't you think it's a little early for dinner? It's New York City. No one eats dinner before seven."
    In an attempt to distract me, she runs her fingers down my suit coat's lapel. This woman does have a thing for suit coats, and I make a note to remember this little detail. I notice a gold Cartier watch sitting on her thin wrist as her hand pulls away from me. It seems she prefers the finer things like I do.
    "If I know your cup size, surely you can call me by my first name."
    “I’ll have to think about that request, Mr. Kingsley. One thing is for certain, though, I won't be going anywhere in that car with you ." She points to the black metal I'm still leaning against, and disappointment hits me, hard. Rejection isn’t something I’m used to hearing from the women I’m chasing. Then again, I can’t remember the last time I chased a woman. Usually they’re drawn to me like magnets.
    "And why won't you go with me in my limo? I'll keep my hands to myself." I want to add "for the first few blocks," but think better of it.
    "I doubt you have the ability to tell yourself or your hands no." Her doubts are probably right. She rolls her eyes at me when my devilish smile confirms them. "This is a belated question. But what are you really doing here? Well, besides stalking me."
    "I took the afternoon off. The evening too for that matter. Canceled everything. I wanted to see if you would accompany me to dinner. I believe that question has already been asked.”
    "So let me get this straight, Mr. Kinglsey, you have been standing outside my building in hopes that I'd walk out before you starved to death?" Her question is more of a tease. "I don't even want to know how you found out I was at my apartment. You know this is rather creepy, don’t you?"
    Telling her I can trace her cell phone via GPS technology would most likely have me spending a boring evening alone. Alone and wishing I'd kept my mouth shut.
    So lying is the best option, or at least glossing over the truth. "As you said, it's New York City. Who eats dinner at home? Eventually I thought you'd surface. Looks like I was right." I wink and tap my temple with my index finger, trying to convince her of my divining powers. I smile as my line finally elicits a sweet little giggle from her. Distraction is my ally here.
    I boldly encompass her small hand in mine, pulling her closer to me. So close that I’m now looking straight down into her eyes, and I see small violet flecks contrasting against the bright blue. A new discovery to this beautiful woman. The small bits of violet shine and get caught in the afternoon sun like a jewel's facets.
    I decide to press her for an answer. I want her with me. No more delays. "Let me take you somewhere, anywhere. You can pick the place. Say yes?" My