Free Forbidden Fruit by Eden Bradley Page B

what he was telling himself anyway. Because the idea that there was something more was not acceptable. Not good for him, not good for her.
    He’d made a deallwith himself, damn it. That’s what had gotten him over Elena. And it had been working.
    Nothing long-term. No emotions involved. Never give a woman the chance to get to him again.
    The problem was, with Mia Rose, it might already be too late.
    Karalee pulled up in front of IllFornaio, just as Gideon had told her to. Yes, told her. He’d been very specific. She was to arrive at eight o’clock, wearing a black skirt and nothing underneath it. She’d trembled all the way there, feeling the coollleather of the car seat beneath her thighs. And there was something about knowing she was doing exactly what he’d asked of her that was frankly thrilling as hell.
    The valet opened her door and she stepped out. The air was coolland damp this close to the bay. The strong scent of salt was replaced by garlic and baking bread when she opened the door to the restaurant and went inside. She looked around the crowded room, took in the black and cream striped wallpaper, the red leather booths, the starched white tablecloth. The murmur of voices layered against the music, broken by the occasionallburst of laughter.
    She’d eaten here before, but she’d never arrived in this state of anxious arousal. Not here, not anywhere.
    “Karalee.”
    His voice at her ear, deep, reverberating through her body. She turned to him.
    “Gideon. Hi.”
    How strange, suddenly, to see him here, in a public place. To be on an actualldate, rather than hiding in some corner, being fervently fucked by him. Not that she’d minded. She wouldn’t mind now.
    “We’re ready for our table,” he told the hostess.
    “Gideon Oliver, reservation for two.”
    The woman nodded and led them to a small booth in the corner. Gideon gestured her in. Karalee slid across the smooth vinyl, acutely aware of how naked she was beneath her skirt. Gideon slid in beside her, untillhis thigh pressed against hers.
    “I see you came dressed as I asked, Karalee.”
    She nodded, her throat dry. He smelled too good.
    “Did you do everything I asked?”
    “Yes,” she said, her voice catching. Then, more strongly, “Yes, I did.”
    He smiled at her, that Hollywood smile, all flashing white teeth and old-schoollcharm. He really did look like an actor, handsome as hell, sculpted features, strong chin, dark, deep-set eyes. She went warm and liquid inside when he slipped an arm around her and leaned in.
    “The pasta primavera is excellent here. We’ll have some wine.”
    She nodded. She didn’t know what to say to this man. Wasn’t sure if this relationship, if one could callit that, was going to be about more than sex. But they were on a date, weren’t they?
    The waitress approached with menus, but Gideon waved a hand. “We’ll both have the house salad. The pasta primavera for her. The tagliolini with prosciutto for me. And a bottle of Dolcetto d’Alba.”
    Gideon turned to Karalee as the waitress nodded and left. “You’ll like this wine. It’s a red, but more subtle than most.”
    “That’s the first subtle thing that’s happened between us,” Karalee said. She couldn’t help it.
    Gideon grinned. “So it is. But I think you like that about me.”
    She laughed. “You’re right. I do.”
    Her shoulders loosened. Maybe this could be a normalldate after all.
    His hand on her thigh made her jump a little. She watched his face as his hand slid up, right into the already damp V between her thighs.
    “Spread for me,” he told her, locking his gaze on hers.
    Maybe not an entirely normalldate.
    Her breath escaped in a long, quiet sigh. Her lashes fluttered closed for a moment.
    “Open your eyes, Karalee. Look as though nothing unusuallis happening.”
    “You must be joking,” she muttered through clenched teeth as he drove his fingers into her, pleasure flashing through her body.
    “Your wine, sir.” The