She was also the first person Nic knew to actually join such a contest, the kind of woman that – if not for fate – he would never have gotten to know. If he was a good man, the best thing he could do was ignore her from hereon.
She asked with a smile, “Believe me now?”
He handed the papers back to her, their fingers brushing against each other, resulting in electricity zapping their skins with just the barest touch.
Nic watched her eyes widen, confusion clear in her gaze as she looked down at their now separated fingers, as if not understanding why such a thing had happened. Her innocence tempted him, in a way that he could not remember being tempted for so long. It was like knowing he was about to have sex for the first time and he could not wait for it to happen.
She looked up, her mouth parted slightly.
He decided then and there that he was not a good man.
“Yes,” Nic answered gravely. “I believe you now.”
Ayah choked out a laugh at his tone. “Now I know you’re making fun of me.” And he was but not insultingly so. She went back to rearranging the souvenirs on her table and, sensing his gaze on her, she asked him, “Do you have an IG account?”
“IG?”
“Instagram?”
He tried not to sound disdainful as he said, “I’m afraid not.”
She looked up at that, giving him a knowing look that just made Nic even more aroused. That look made Nic imagine impaling her with his cock, and him giving her a knowing look next. What can you say now, his burning eyes would ask. If you think you know everything, you don’t. My cock will show you what you don’t know and I can only teach you—-
“...and you can link it to your Facebook and Twitter account, too,” she was saying helpfully.
Nic forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying.
“Social media marketing is important in every industry, you know,” she told him. “So even if it doesn’t fit your ‘macho’ profile, you should really reconsider having an IG account.”
He gave her a solemn nod. “I will.”
She grinned. “I know you won’t.”
He shrugged.
Laughing, she returned her attention to the souvenirs. He continued looking at her silently, and she did her best not to be flustered. No one had ever studied her this long or this intently and it was seriously making her feel awkward.
Finally, when she couldn’t stand it, she mumbled, “What is it?”
He was finally getting to her.
Nic shook his head slightly, a little incredulous that for the first time in his life he found himself pursuing a woman’s attention and, worse, competing against airline products for it.
If his favorite cousin Farica was here, she would have been laughing her head off and telling him he deserved it. She had always told him he took himself too seriously, and with this girl, Nic was beginning to realize that it just might be true.
His gaze on her face, which was clearly flushed with embarrassment, he said bluntly, “You fascinate me.”
Ayah shook her head jerkily. “I’m not fascinating.” She kept her gaze trained on the souvenirs.
“Yes,” he countered silkily, “you are.” And before she could answer, he did them both a favor. He closed the distance between them, tipped her chin up, and kissed her.
Oooooooooh. She gasped against his mouth, but the sound was swallowed by his burningly hot kiss. Did he know this was her first ever kiss? Would it matter? Should it matter?
His lips were soft, firm, hot, and everything she never dreamt about but should have. Men had never been a large part of her life, but with this kiss Ayah knew she would never look at men the same way again. Always she would remember this kiss, always she would compare, and always men would fail when pitted against him.
She broke away, her hands on his chest. “I don’t even know your name!” She couldn’t believe she had let a nameless stranger kiss her like that!
Looking at him, with the way passion had turned his eyes into blue fire, Ayah realized with shock that she still wanted him to kiss her, name or no name.
Seeing that she was a hair’s breadth away from panicking, he said, “My name is Luuk.” It was not. “Luuk Aafjes.” That was the name of their family home’s head gardener, and he said it without thinking, years of having a cynical attitude towards women too ingrained in him to ignore. Ayah Chandler might look innocent, but she was not someone he truly knew and thus she was not to be trusted.
“Luuk.”
Something in him growled. He did not like hearing another man’s name on her lips – even if she thought it was his. He shook his head at her. “Do not call me that.”