Free Heartbreaker by Linda Howard Page B

length of silken leg exposed by the movement. She promptly restored her skirt to its proper position and crossed her legs as she settled in the seat, giving him a questioning glance when he continued to stand in the open door. “Is something wrong?”
    â€œNo.” He closed the door and walked around the car. Not unless she counted the way looking at her made him so hot that a deep ache settled in his loins. She couldn’t move without making him think of making love to her. When she crossed her legs, he thought of uncrossing them. When she pulled her skirt down, he thought of pulling it up. When she leaned back the movement thrust her breasts against her lapels, and he wanted to tear the dress open. Damn, what a dress! It wrapped her modestly, but the silk kissed every soft curve just the way he wanted to do, and all morning long it had been teasing at him that the damned thing was fastened with only those two buttons. Two buttons! He had to have her, he thought savagely. He couldn’t wait much longer. He’d already waited ten years, and his patience had ended. It was time.
    The restaurant he took her to was a posh favorite of the city’s business community, but he didn’t worry about needing a reservation. The maître d’ knew him, as did most of the people in the room, by sight and reputation if not personally. They were led across the crowded room to a select table by the window.
    Michelle had noted the way so many people had watched them. “Well, this is one,” she said dryly.
    He looked up from the menu. “One what?”
    â€œI’ve been seen in public with you once. Gossip has it that any woman seen with you twice is automatically assumed to be sleeping with you.”
    His mustache twitched as he frowned in annoyance. “Gossip has a way of being exaggerated.”
    â€œUsually, yes.”
    â€œAnd in this case?”
    â€œYou tell me.”
    He put the menu aside, his eyes never leaving her. “No matter what gossip says, you won’t have to worry about being just another member of a harem. While we’re together, you’ll be the only woman in my bed.”
    Her hands shook, and Michelle quickly put her menu on the table to hide that betraying quiver. “You’re assuming a lot,” she said lightly in an effort to counteract the heat she could feel radiating from him.
    â€œI’m not assuming anything. I’m planning on it.” His voice was flat, filled with masculine certainty. He had reason to be certain; how many women had ever refused him? He projected a sense of overwhelming virility that was at least as seductive as the most expert technique, and from what she’d heard, he had that, too. Just looking at him made a woman wonder, made her begin dreaming about what it would be like to be in bed with him.
    â€œMichelle, darling!”
    Michelle couldn’t stop herself from flinching at that particular phrase, even though it was spoken in a lilting female voice rather than a man’s deeper tones. Quickly she looked around, grateful for the interruption despite the endearment she hated; when she recognized the speaker, gratefulness turned to mere politeness, but her face was so schooled that the approaching woman didn’t catch the faint nuances of expression.
    â€œHello, Bitsy, how are you?” she asked politely as John got to his feet. “This is John Rafferty, my neighbor. John, this is Bitsy Sumner, from Palm Beach. We went to college together.”
    Bitsy’s eyes gleamed as she looked at John, and she held her hand out to him. “I’m so glad to meet you, Mr. Rafferty.”
    Michelle knew Bitsy wouldn’t pick it up, but she saw the dark amusement in John’s eyes as he gently took the woman’s faultlessly manicured and bejeweled hand in his. Naturally he’d seen the way Bitsy was looking at him . It was a look he’d probably been getting since puberty.
    â€œMrs.