the warm rush of his breath teasing through the hair behind her ear as he asked in that low rough voice of his if she was having a good time—casual had never felt so intimate.
Tipping her head back to meet his eyes, she nodded, swallowing past a wordless reaction she wasn’t accustomed to. A displaced sort of tug low in her belly made her feel as though she were flying and falling all at once. Jeff’s gaze searched her own, drifted lower. Her thoughts went to the moment when he’d touched her mouth back at the bar. To the words she’d said.
...I won’t go back to your room...
And the question of whether she still meant them.
“Let’s go find someplace to get a drink and figure out what’s next on our agenda,” he said taking a step back as he let her go. The move was so unexpected, Darcy nearly stumbled at the absence of contact.
For an instant she’d been sure he would kiss her. Even now as he scanned the surrounding area in search of their next stop, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t felt the press of his lips against hers.
More, she couldn’t believe she’d wanted to. Because what kind of madness would that be?
Jeff reached around her, resting his hand at the small of her back and asked, “What’s the best bar in a three-block radius?”
The light contact felt good, even if for a crazy moment she’d thought she might want more. This was quality date stuff and she wasn’t in any hurry to lose it. But a bar... “How about ice cream? There’s a creamery just up the way here.”
At Jeff’s speculative look, she answered his unspoken question. “It’s sort of a trust thing.”
There was no judgment in his eyes when he asked, “You don’t trust me? Or, and since you serve drinks for a living, I’m going to guess this isn’t it, you don’t trust yourself to stop?”
She laughed, leading the way as they walked. “The only person I trust is me. So don’t take it personally. I like to stay sharp because I don’t want to find out the hard way who I can or can’t trust not to take advantage.”
The easy smile Jeff had been sporting throughout the night slid from his lips and something dark and protective pushed into his eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said with a knowing shake of her head. “There’s no horror story. At least not mine. In Vegas or probably any city, you hear things. I pay attention. And I’m just very...practical. I’ve always been like this.”
Jeff’s expression relaxed. “So you’re risk adverse.”
“Some would say to a fault.”
“But not you?”
“But not me. If I thought I was doing something wrong, living in a way that didn’t satisfy me or left me feeling like I was somehow missing out—I’d change it. Like I said, I’m pretty good at looking out for myself. I’m my number one priority. So I’m not really one to sit idle waiting for someone else to call out my problems or fix them for me.”
“So you’re a risk adverse woman of action, taking charge of your own destiny.”
The corners of her mouth curled beneath his succinct categorization of her.
She’d been called a lot of things, by a lot of guys when they hadn’t gotten their way with her. Cold, hard, icy. Names that indicated her lack of interest must stem from a shortcoming on her part rather than a simple lack of desire to pursue something with a guy making passes at her while she was at work.
She slanted Jeff a sidelong look. He was just that—a guy making passes at her while she was working. And yet something about him struck her as so wholly different. Different enough, that as she kept telling herself the reason she’d agreed to go with him was because it was her last night in Las Vegas, some small part of her wondered if she would have gone with him whether she’d been leaving or not.
No. She shook the thought off, casting an inward scowl at the idea she’d do something that went against her principles after she’d just explained how keen she was on self-preservation.
“Strong and independent. A woman who knows her own mind. I like that.”
“Yeah?” she asked, turning around to walk backward as she looked at him. “And me?”
“I definitely like you.” He raked those big hands through the mess of his hair as he scanned the sky above them and then met her eyes with a straightforward stare. “I like the way you surprise me. That I didn’t have you figured out within thirty seconds, or hell, even now, hours later.”
Her steps slowed and Jeff closed the distance between them, resting his hand over the curve of her hip. “And I like that I can make you laugh, because the sound of it—”
He shook his head, still holding her gaze. “When you give into it for me—” his fingers tightened against her hips in a brief possessive grip “—all I can think about is how I’m going to get you to do it again.”
* * *
“Jeff.”
If he’d thought her laugh knocked him flat, hell, it was nothing compared to the breathy sound of her voice when she said his name like that. Like maybe she wanted the very thing he’d been about killing himself not to press for.
Sure once he’d made up his mind about getting her to go out with him back at the lounge, he’d assumed the natural progression of the evening would lead to a physical conclusion. They were both adults and there’d been a chemistry between them.
And he wanted it.
Hell, yeah, he did.
But something kept holding him back through each of those crossroad moments where the opportunity to change the tone of the night presented itself. The conflict in her eyes was like none he’d seen before. And it spurred some deeply instinctual need in him to protect her.
This woman he’d thought had ice in her veins and could level a man with one look alone was vulnerable and for some reason, tonight, she’d trusted him to take her out, show her the good time she all too rarely got and give her the night she deserved without whatever had her worrying that lush bottom lip of hers between her teeth. They could be the simple, uncomplicated, good time the other remembered in the years to come.
He smiled, thinking Darcy would get a kick out of that bit of fire-hose-flexing ego.
Who the hell knew if she’d remember him next week, let alone next year. But he hoped she would. Because he’d remember her.
* * *
What was she doing, looking into this guy’s eyes like she couldn’t physically make herself look away.
She didn’t make the reckless choice. Not ever.
She didn’t give in to the feel-good moment.
She liked control. In her work, in her life, in her heart and mind.
But somehow Jeff with all his ego talk, comfort in his own skin, confidence in his actions...his going after anything and everything he wanted like it never occurred to him he couldn’t have it, was tempting her to behavior she didn’t indulge in.
Making her want something she knew she shouldn’t take. The experience of surrendering to a feeling. The chemistry tingling across her skin, batting around in her belly and whispering temptations through her mind since the first moment their eyes locked, and she realized this guy had just seen something she didn’t show to anyone. And he’d liked it.
Her belly knotted tight at the idea of stepping so far out of her comfort zone. She’d already made too many exceptions. Starting with the conversation at his table and ending with the two of them standing here looking into each other’s eyes.
Because Jeff was like a desert mirage. The kind of fantasy that could drive a woman to lose herself in the futile hope of finding shelter within a cool oasis that was never