Walking the Line Read Online Free PDF Page B

dinner with Finn in this lovely place. “Besides,
I’m meeting Kye and he’s due any second.”
    To my chagrin, Finn grinned and tapped my
nose. “Haven’t you heard this will grow if you tell fibs?”
    “How do you know—”
    “Because I asked Kye to set this up.” He had
the grace to look sheepish. “You’re either too busy avoiding me or
fobbing me off, so I called in the cavalry.”
    “I’ll kill him,” I muttered, secretly
impressed Kye had gone to such lengths to get me and the Irishman
together. Not that it would stop the verbal flaying he had coming
his way.
    “Please, Ellie, it’s just dinner—”
    “No.” I slipped into my leather jacket and
slung my bag over my shoulder, already eyeing the door.
    He shrugged. “Too bad. I’ve already pre-paid
for the degustation and you know how strapped for cash I am. Shame
you’d let me lose money because you’re in mortal fear of being
alone with something this good.” He patted himself on the chest and
I couldn’t stop a reluctant smile.
    “Have you really paid or is that another lie
you and Kye seem so good at?”
    “I’ve paid. But drinks are on you if it
appeases your feminist side.”
    Guilted into it, I nodded. “Fine. But you’re
lucky I don’t fire your arse for coercing me into this by nefarious
methods.”
    He held up his hands in surrender, the
picture of faux innocence, and this time laughter burst from my
lips.
    Finn grinned at me like I’d just handed him a
thousand dollar tip. “Our table’s this way.”
    He placed a guiding hand in the small of my
back, something that usually annoyed me with guys. Presumptuous.
But with Finn, it merely made me feel safe.
    It was probably the beer buzz, but when we
sat at a cozy table for two at the back of the bar, a screen
increasing the intimacy between us, I didn’t mind. In fact, it felt
nice.
    “This isn’t so bad, huh?” He rested his
forearms on the table. Strong, lean forearms with a light dusting
of auburn hair.
    How many times had I surreptitiously stared
at him, wondering how it would feel to be held in those arms, to be
caressed by those hands? Too many and now, with Finn within
touching distance, and my resistance lowered by alcohol, I was in
immediate danger of doing something I’d regret.
    “Depends on your definition of bad,” I said,
aiming for flippant, but ending up having to clear my throat when I
made the mistake of looking into his eyes.
    Damn, he felt it too. This thing between us.
Invisible. Intangible. But intense all the same.
    “Stop looking at me like that,” he said,
reaching for a glass of water.
    “Like what?” I watched him swallow, even
admiring the column of his neck.
    “Like you think I’m going to gobble you
up.”
    “I’m not—”
    “Yeah, you are.” He leaned across the table.
“And I promise to gobble you up only if you ask nicely.”
    Heat surged to my cheeks, and several choice
places in between. “Must be true what they say about kissing the
Blarney Stone.”
    “I’m not rambling, sweetheart. I’m just
stating facts.” He relaxed into his chair and pinned me with an
intense stare that left me breathless. “I want you. Naked and hot
and panting for me.”
    I gaped at him, stunned by how fiercely I
wanted that too.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    FINN
     
     
    I whistled as we strolled from Maik’s to the
nearest taxi rank several blocks away.
    Tonight had turned out better than I
expected. Not only had Ellie preserved my crown jewels by not
kneeing me for getting her to the bar under false pretenses, she’d
stayed and we’d had a great dinner.
    Though it wasn’t the soft shell crab,
coriander prawns, slow-cooked veal, hickory-smoked trout, pork
belly in black vinegar, and thyme-infused peach sorbet that made
the evening great so much as the way she’d unwound. For the first
time in a week, I’d glimpsed the woman behind the crimson lipstick
and gelled hair and overly made-up eyes.
    Ellie loved junk food and old action movies
and drinking