“Scotch, please. On the rocks, if there is ice.”
Appreciating his choice of a twelve-year-old whiskey, Adie poured a healthy amount into two glasses and lifted the lid on an ice bucket. Using silver tongs, she picked up ice cubes and dumped a couple each in the crystal tumblers before walking back over to him. Without her heels, the top of her head reached only his collarbone and next to him she felt dainty and deliciously feminine.
Adie handed him the glass and his fingers slid over hers, sending a delicious stream of “oh, yeah” up her arm and causing her nipples to contract. Heat pooled between her legs and she felt both languorous and hyped. Adie stared down at her fingers, still wrapped around the glass, bracketed by his darker ones. She wanted to see, and feel, his fingers cupping her breasts, to look down and see his head between her...
Holy Christmas crackers! What was going on here?
Yanking her hand away, Adie stepped back and lifted her own glass to her lips, hoping he didn’t notice. She didn’t like feeling so out of control. Even in the old days, back when she’d used men and their attention as a distraction, she’d never experienced such an intense reaction. Back then, she’d been more concerned about what a man could doforher—mentally and emotionally as opposed to physically and financially—rather than what he didtoher.
He stopped in front of a faceless gold mannequin wearing a tiny camisole and panties and cocked his head to the side. Tucking his jacket under his arm, he reached out and rubbed the silk between his thumb and finger.
“It’s from one of the most exclusive and talented designers in the world. It’s made from Lyon silk edged with Chantilly lace and comes in every color you can think of,” Adie gabbled, her face heating. “Obviously she has other designs, if that’s not your thing.”
His lips quirked and those gorgeous eyes flashed with amusement. “It’s notmything at all. I’m more of a take-it-off than a try-it-on guy.”
Adie smiled at his joke.
He cleared his throat and Adie forced her eyes to connect with his. Those eyes darkened, turned intense.
“Gorgeous,” he stated, his eyes not moving off hers. Adie wasn’t sure whether he was referring to her or the lingerie or both. “I’d like to see it in its more natural setting...”
And she’d have no problem wearing it for him. She could easily imagine a huge bed, luxurious, sweet-smelling cotton sheets, a bottle of Moët in a silver ice bucket, fado music—expressive, passionate and melancholic—playing in the background.
And the late afternoon sun falling on the bed, turning his hair to burnished gold...
Adie quickly lowered her eyes, took a fortifying sip of whiskey and placed her glass on the table, grateful when he resumed his slow stroll down the tables, those light, intense eyes darting over her inventory. He picked up a hand-blown glass Christmas tree ornament, holding the gorgeous peacock design up to the light.
“It’s mouth-blown and hand-painted. The crystals on its plumage are diamonds.”
He didn’t react but simply sipped his drink and looked down at the open box displaying Christmas crackers. “And these?”
Adie looked at his profile, wondering whether his wavy hair was as soft as it looked. She inhaled his woody, sunshiny smell. It took all her processing power to make sense of his question.
“Uh...handmade in the UK from eco-friendly luxury paper. They are tailor-made and the prizes can be anything you want. I had a client who bought each of his children a new car for Christmas and we inserted the car keys inside.”
His lips quirked up in a half smile and Adie desperately wanted to know whether his mouth was as skilled as it was sexy. She really should have sex more often; this reaction was ridiculous. But, like relationships, random sexual encounters weren’t her thing.
But she was seriously considering making this man the exception to her rule.
“I take it those kids didn’t receive entry-level models.”
Of course they didn’t, her clients didn’t understand the wordentry-level. “Porsches and Lamborghinis.”
He whistled and moved on.
“Are you in the market for something special?” Adie asked him, trying to judge whether he was a serious spender. His pants were quality, his shoes were expensive, but she couldn’t tell if he was a billionaire or a millionaire or just rich. Unfortunately, if he was just rich, he wouldn’t be able to afford what she was offering. Her products were aimed at the multimillionaire to billionaire section of the marketplace.
“Just looking.”
Those words, she’d come to learn, were often code for I-like-it-but-I-can’t-afford-it. Oh, well, he might not be good for business, but he was lovely to look at. Adie glanced down at her watch and noticed that it was past eleven and she still had a couple of hours of work ahead of her. She had a long day packed with meetings tomorrow and it was time to hustle Mr. Delicious along.
“No way!”
At his outburst, Adie’s eyes flew to the object in his hand and she grinned. The centerpiece of the object was a 3.5-carat heart-shaped diamond, and more round diamonds studded the crocodile leather band.
“Is this a dog collar? For three hundred thousand?” he demanded, sounding and looking outraged.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Adie took the collar from his hand and examined the intricate work.