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“I’m done.” Kate pushes her bowl away from her. “If I eat another bite I won’t fit into the dress I’m planning on wearing to the symphony.”

A smile spreads across Olivia’s mouth. “Didn’t we have plans to pick out dresses tonight, Kate?”

Kate’s gaze falls to her phone. “We did, but I have to stop at the boutique first. I’ll meet up with you in an hour at your place.”

A rise of her shoulders and a soft sigh are the only reply from Olivia.

“No rest for the weary.” Jack pushes back from the table. “I need to meet a client to go over something pressing.”

I predicted as much when I noticed him texting non-stop during our second dinner. Jack is respectful enough to put his phone away unless it’s an emergency.

This must fall into that category.

“It was great meeting you both.” Jack stands. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“It was good meeting you too,” Olivia calls after him.

“Thank you again for dinner, Alexander.” Kate reaches for her purse. “I’ll be at your place in an hour, Olivia.”

Olivia nods as her friend gets up and walks away leaving the two of us alone.

Chapter 14

Olivia

How in the hell did I end up alone with Alexander and why are my palms so sweaty?

I grip the paper napkin in my fist even tighter.

I’m a bundle of nerves for some reason.

Usually, I’m fine around men. There have been times in the past when I’ve put my foot in my mouth, or I’ve spilled food on my dress, but tonight I kept it together on the outside, even though I feel like I’m riding a rollercoaster on the inside.

Alexander Donato smells incredible.

If I could spray that cologne on my pillow each night, I’d fall asleep with a smile on my face.

Maybe it’s not cologne; maybe he smells this good on his own.

His hands fall to his jean covered thighs.

“Olivia,” he says my name and I feel like I just dropped into a curve on the roller coaster.

My heartbeat speeds. My breathing stalls.

“Yes?”

“Can I buy you a drink? Perhaps a brandy?”

I glance at his face. It’s gorgeous. His jaw is covered in late day stubble and he’s rocking that bad boy, messy hair look.

The dark sweater he’s wearing only adds to the allure.

Why do the arrogant ones always have to be this hot?

“I need to get home.” I pick up my phone.

“Why?”


Tags: Deborah Bladon Just This Once Erotic