TROUBLE 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

inspection.
    “Thank you.”
    “Shall we go?” he asks, taking my elbow and pulling the door closed behind me.
    We ride the elevator in silence because I am nervous and because he’s so busy undressing me with his eyes it’s a wonder my clothes don’t evaporate from my burning skin.
    “Stop that,” I hiss, pulling at the skirt of my dress in discomfort.
    I feel great, but the dress fits my butt so snugly I feel exposed and slightly vulnerable.
    “I can’t help it. You look like a pin-up, with the nicest ass I’ve had the pleasure of seeing,” he says heatedly, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to throw myself at him.
    When we exit my building it’s to the sight of a gleaming sliver Mercedes.
    “Nice car.”
    “Why thank you, Hannah, I try to please.”
    My nerves jump at the passionate suggestion in that statement, but I ignore what my body wants and decide not to take his bait so readily.
    “I’ll bet. Does that line usually work?”
    He laughs as he hands me into the car and jogs around to his side.
    “I wouldn’t know, as I’ve never used it before. You tell me.”
    The smirk that pulls at my lips is all wry humor.
    “I don’t know yet. Ask me at the end of the night.”
    “Oh, I will, darlin’, you can bet on it.”
    “Where are we going?”
    I need to change the subject before his hot glances make me combust like a pathetic, sex-starved fool, even though I know, and from his smirk he knows too, that I am retreating before the round has begun. He allows it without a blink and turns the car into traffic.
    “There’s a gem of an Italian place I found a few months back I’d like you to experience. Their spaghetti is to die for.”
    “I love Italian food, although I admit I haven’t eaten anything but pizza on the odd occasion I allow myself takeout.”
    While I’d been married and busy working my ass off to support myself and my lazy husband, I’d eaten so much junk I’d picked up thirty pounds. Now I keep a strict eye on anything I eat. I am toned and lean, and thanks to my new anal retentiveness I really do have a fantastic ass.
    I may enjoy whatever Gregory Lucas has in store for tonight, but I will never let myself go enough to go back to the fat, unhappy loser I was before.
    “That sounds like you only eat what you’ll allow yourself. Can’t be too enjoyable, being food conscious,” he says with a frown.
    “I eat a lot of things I don’t consider healthy, I just don’t enjoy the thirty pounds takeout adds to my ass. Plus, I like cooking, even if it’s only for one,” I aver, not wanting to get into a heavy discussion about my dietary restrictions.
    “Yeah? Maybe you could cook for me sometime. I love home-cooked meals.”
    I raise a brow at the liberty and bite my lip to keep from laughing when he pulls a sad, downtrodden face.
    “Take pity on a poor lonely bachelor.”
    “Oh, Mr Lucas, somehow I doubt you’ve been lonely a day in your life,” I tease, enjoying the banter.
    His face goes hard for a second before it is replaced by what I now associate with the seductive guise I’ve witnessed since meeting him.
    “Gregory,” he says with a scowl. “And you’re probably right, Hannah, but take pity on me anyway.”
    Conversation halts as he pulls into a parking space that must have been sent by the gods — parking in New York is no joke — and comes around to help me out.
    “So chivalrous.”
    “I do aim to please. Now come on, you’re going to love this.”
    The restaurant is tucked away at basement level, something that makes it hard to spot and assures me that the patrons who come here are regulars who guard this secret well.
    It’s a typical little bistro with a romantic ambience and a lovely mix of old and new that keeps me staring as a tiny middle-aged woman leads us to a private table in the back.
    “So good to see you, Gregory,” she says in a slightly accented voice. “And you bring bella signora .”
    I am flattered, even though I’m not