She knew how that felt and it wasn’t an experience she needed to repeat.
O’Hare handed his helmet and his jacket to the simpering waitress and Kinga noticed how his navy blue T-shirt skimmed a wide chest and how the bands of the sleeves were tight against his big biceps.
With his seductive swagger and easy confidence, he screamed trouble.
Her ball was luxurious, classy, upmarket and elegant; she needed a performer who reflected those qualities. O’Hare would not fill the bill. She just had to get through this meeting and bring Callum around to her way of thinking. She’d find someone else.
O’Hare looked around, saw her sitting in the booth, and their eyes collided. Heat skittered up her spine and lodged in her womb, warming the space between her legs. Her nipples contracted and she swallowed a heavy sigh.
Sue her, she was attracted. But only on a purely physical level.
Kinga watched as he looked around the bar for someone to stand and approach him. Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt him to be kept waiting for a few minutes, she leaned against the back of the leather-clad booth, curious to see what he’d do. He looked around again and Kinga saw the flash of irritation at having his time wasted.
Welcome to my world, dude.
Enjoying herself, Kinga kept her eyes on him. When their gazes clashed again, Kinga felt the same slap of attraction. Damn, this was neither helpful nor convenient.
O’Hare lifted those swimmer’s shoulders in a what-the-hell shrug and her stomach tightened as he moved toward her, his eyes not leaving her face. Stopping at her booth, he jammed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, and Kinga inhaled his fresh air and healthy male scent and felt her head swim.
Keep it together, Ryder-White. He’s just another guy and this is just another meeting.
That was like saying Hurricane Sandy was just another storm.
“Well, huh.”
Kinga raised one eyebrow. “Sorry?”
“Your eyes are the color of fine, old whiskey.”
“And have been since I was born,” Kinga pertly replied, telling herself not to blush.Business meeting, Kinga! Be professional.
He sent her a slow, hot, sexy smile and her stomach did a full, twisting forward tuck, something she’d never mastered in five years of gymnastic training. “I’m looking for a business associate but if I don’t find him, can I buy you a drink?”
He flashed her a smile and looked a little confused when she leaned back against the leather banquette and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
After thirty seconds of silence, Kinga nodded to the seat opposite her and narrowed her eyes. “No, O’Hare, you can’tbuy me a drink. But feel free to sit down. I’m Kinga Ryder-White and you are disrespectfully late.”
Well,shit.Kinga Ryder-White looked like she’d swallowed a particularly sour lemon.
Not the reaction he generally received, Griff thought, a little amused. Having been a so-called heartthrob since his early teens, he found her get-over-yourself attitude refreshing.
Griff slid into the booth, his eyes sliding down her face and elegant neck. He leaned sideways to peek at the rest of her long, lean body. She was tall for a woman, five-eight or five-nine, but, topping out at six-four, he’d guess he still had four or five inches on her.
She was dressed in what he called Boring Corporate, a men’s style button-down shirt, black tailored pants and spiky-heeled boots. Her makeup, if she wore any, was minimal and made her skin look flawless. Griff had dated enough women to know that natural look took hours to perfect.
Then those astute, exceptional eyes met his and he realized he wasn’t dealing with a naive young woman or a pushover. She was not only sexy but also smart, determined and very, very wary.
“I thought I was meeting with Callum Ryder-White,” he said, raking his hand through his hair.
“My grandfather instructed me to meet with you. I deal with PR, and I make the decisions around the Ryder centennial celebrations.”
God, even her voice was sexy, containing a hint of rasp and smoke.
“Nice to meet you, darlin’.”
Thedarlin’pissed her off and lightning flashed in her honey-whiskey eyes. He watched her run elegant fingers through her short, bright blond hair. It took a certain amount of confidence to wear her hair so short, but with her high cheekbones, straight nose and cat-like eyes, she pulled it off.
“You can call me Kinga or Ms. Ryder-White but can the darlin’s,darlin’.”