He shrugged. “I’ll do it if I have to, but I don’t fly for fun.”
She assessed his unease with a sharp eye. “Is this a lifelong fear, or did it pop up five years ago?”
Nate glared at her, and Kris met his gaze straight-on, unflinching.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“If you say so.”
He made an impatient noise. “We’ve stayed too late. The restaurant is about to close.”
Sure enough, the waiters were stacking chairs on the tables in a not-so-subtle hint for Nate and Kris to leave. It was as clear an end to their conversation as Nate’s abrupt subject change.
Kris glanced at the clock and was shocked to see they’d been here for hours. Normally, that much time in one person’s company would’ve compelled her to either stab herself out of boredom, but she’d actually enjoyed herself.
She had enough cash for a tip, which she insisted on covering since Nate had paid for the food, and they exited the restaurant with full bellies and a strange charge in the air.
“No signs of food poisoning yet, so you’re in the clear—for now,” Kris said, but her voice lacked its usual bite.
Nate smirked. “Lucky me.”
The lights from a passing car swept across his face, illuminating his finely carved features. A thick lock of golden-brown hair fell over his forehead and partially obscured one eye.
The urge to brush the wayward hair back seized Kris, who crossed her arms over her chest to prevent any foolish actions on her part.
Electricity danced in the air between them, so thick and strong her skin buzzed. Was it just her, or had Nate’s eyes changed color? They were no longer emeralds but dark, lustful pools of sin that sucked her in until she couldn’t breathe.
She suddenly realized he had a mole near his upper lip. It was so tiny it would’ve escaped most people’s notice. Far from an imperfection, the mole only drew more notice to the firm, sensual curve of his lips.
Kris’s heart pounded against her chest. They were so close. All she had to do was take one step forward and—
Nate drew back, and a shutter fell over his face. “Saturday at noon then?” The crisp, detached rumble of his voice chased away any remaining electricity.
Kris blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in the atmosphere before she remembered what they were doing here.
They weren’t lovers parting ways after a date. She’dhiredhim, for Chrissakes. Their relationship was as romantic as that of a chauffeur and passenger, or plumber and client. Not to mention, a kiss would’ve been so unpleasant.
Hello, they just ate garlic rice.
At least, that was what she told herself.
“Yes. See you then.” Saturday at noon was the only time Kris could guarantee Gloria would be at the house. That was when she had her weekly sessions with her yogi/personal trainer/spiritual teacher—or whatever the fuck he was—in the mansion’s Planet Fitness-sized gym.
Kris flashed Nate a brittle smile and sped walk to her car, furious with herself for the momentary lapse of control.
Nate Reynolds was a means to an end. Nothing more.