Champagne Cravings Read Online Free PDF Page B

I
glowered at him as I came out of my apartment and passed him in the hallway
when he stepped out of the elevator, his ritual to-go cup from the coffeehouse
on the corner in his hand. The same hand that had just barely touched me last
night, but which had thoroughly set me on fire.
    After he’d left the previous evening, it’d been all I could
do to keep from alleviating some of the sexual tension I’d felt. But I’d had
the insane notion in my head he might be listening on the other side of the
wall we shared. And cranking up the music for five minutes to cover a battery-operated
device was too damn obvious. Him knowing I was so turned-on I’d had to take
matters into my own hands wouldn’t bode well for my resolve to distance myself
from him, would it?
    He said, “Bright, sunny day today. We should have lunch in
Central Park.”
    “I’m working,” I grumbled.
    Undeterred, he grinned. “You are so not a morning person.”
Nothing new there. “How about dinner tonight?”
    His invitation was as a casual as always, and nothing out of
the ordinary. Yet it made my stomach twist in knots because I was completely
disoriented today. I had no idea how to sort out the push-and-pull inside me,
the emotional tug-of-war in my heart.
    The fact I was so crazy about Mike made a part of me want to
explore what he’d hinted at—a relationship. But too much of me had turned tail
and run last night and I couldn’t deny I had good reason for being scared. More
than just my fear of being hurt, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around Mike
wanting more than just an easy lay. Who would’ve guessed?
    I needed some time to get everything back into place in my
mind and my heart, so I said, “I’ve got a lot happening with this new case.
I’ll probably be home late.” I hoped that would keep him from considering
stopping by.
    Nope.
    “I’ll order Chinese. We can heat it up when you get in, if
you’re running behind.”
    I stared at him. The fact he was so amazingly good-looking
aside, the sparkle in his eyes made him hard to say no to. But Chase and
Brandon had had that “I’m all yours, babe” look about them too. Third time with
a bad boy would not be the charm, I was sure of it.
    “I’m really not going to be in the mood for company,” I told
him. “I already saw footage from last night’s catastrophe at the Montlimiere on
the morning news and on the Internet. This campaign sabotage has gone high profile
and I’ll be swimming in it for a while.” Terrible pun, considering Biel’s
tragic debut as Elan’s model.
    “I can help, you know.” The sincerity in his eyes and his
genuine smile made me sigh.
    The problem, I realized, was that even if I wanted to think he
was like Chase and Brandon in order to keep him at arm’s length and to protect
myself, I knew, deep in my heart, he wasn’t cut from the same cloth. Despite
his voracious sexual appetite and remarkable ability to score any woman he
wanted, I could not dispute Mike Lucas was a good guy. One of the things that
made him so hard to resist.
    He was the kind of man who’d risk life and limb to push my
car down Fifth Avenue if I ran out of gas. The kind of man who would buy me an
airline ticket back home to see my mother if I couldn’t afford it—upgrading it
to first class and refusing to let me pay him back. The kind of man who would
pummel a jerk like Brandon for fucking two other women in the coatroom at my
friend’s wedding reception and making an absolute fool out of me in front of
several hundred people.
    Though the first two scenarios were hypothetical, the third
was not. Mike had been offended for me, a complete stranger at the time, and
hadn’t been able to let the slight go. That was how we’d met and I’d found out
about this great apartment. And the fantastic man living next door to it.
    Thinking of how supportive he’d been from the very second
I’d met him made my heart flutter—which, conversely, put me on edge.
    I said, “Of course