Reese Ryan - Playing With Desire

Tucking her hand into the bend of his elbow, he followed the hostess to their table. Maya concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The simple feat required all of her concentration.

“Thank you.” The words tumbled from her lips the second the hostess left them alone. “It was kind of you to come to my rescue, but I doubt dinner with a random stranger was your plan for tonight. I’ll order something to go from the bar and let you get back to your evening.” The inflection at the end of the phrase indicated it was a question. She hadn’t intended it to be. The thinking part of her brain clearly wasn’t the part of her body in control at the moment.

His dark eyes glinted in the candlelight. “My motives aren’t as altruistic as you might imagine. The opportunity to dine with a beautiful woman presented itself, so I seized it. I’d much prefer your company to eating alone.”

Her heart pounded. Eating with a stranger would be uncomfortable. Dining alone on her birthday when there was a better option...that was just sad.

Maya surveyed the man. He was confident. Cocky even. And sexy as sin. There was that word again. She sighed. No point in denying the truth. His penetrating stare and impish grin stirred the kind of feelings that were a dangerous luxury she couldn’t afford. Regardless of her body and brain going rogue, she had zero interest in anything more than an hour of dinner conversation with another adult.

They were in a restaurant full of people. What harm would there be in sharing a meal?

She furrowed her brows. “You really want to do this?”

“I do.” His eyes twinkled with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Fitting for a guy who probably wasn’t accustomed to working this hard to get a woman to say yes.

“Then thank you for the dinner invitation, Mr. Westbrook.”

He extended his large hand across the table. “Please, call me Liam.”

Maya slipped her hand into his. She allowed herself a moment to revel in the heat of his firm grip. How would it feel to have those hands on her waist? Her hips? Her... Maya’s cheeks warmed, and she withdrew her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Liam.”

He smiled. “So, Ms. Alvarez...it is Ms., isn’t it?” She nodded as she absently stroked her empty ring finger. The bareness still felt new. She’d only stopped wearing her wedding band six months earlier. When Carlos announced his engagement to what’s-her-face. “What shall I call you?”

She raised her eyes to his again. “Maya.”

“Well, happy birthday, Maya. Sorry you’re stuck with me on your big day. Let’s make the best of it, shall we?” He winked.

“Thank you.” Maya exhaled, easing the tension in her shoulders. Small talk. She could do small talk. “So, where are you from, Liam?”

“London, originally. Spent the past few years here in the US working in New York and then LA.”

“What brings you to Pleasure Cove?”

There was a flash of something in his eyes. Anger? Or maybe pain? But it was quickly displaced by the luminous glint that was there before. “I’d planned to return to London earlier this year, but things change. So here I am.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m in hospitality.”

She should have known. Pleasure Cove, once a sleepy little fishing and beach town favored by old money snowbirds and retirees, had quickly become a playground for the upwardly mobile and nouveau riche. There were at least three new resorts and as many condos under construction. “Which hotel?”

“Pleasure Cove Luxury Resort.”

“The crown jewel of Pleasure Cove,” she said, echoing the ad. “I saw the renderings online. It’s going to be unlike anything in Pleasure Cove.”

“That’s the plan.” He tapped the table. “But that’s enough about me. I want to hear all about you, birthday girl.”

Maya was relieved when the server interrupted them. The woman introduced herself, set down two glasses of water and rattled off the specials.

Maya ordered, then quickly added, “Separate checks, please.”

“I invited you to dine with me as my guest. Allow me to pay for your meal.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t, and I insist. Can’t allow you to pay for your own birthday meal.” He gave a mock shudder. “How uncivilized.”

She held back a grin. “My sister couldn’t make it tonight, but she’s paying. So, if that’s your concern, we’re good.” Maya shifted her gaze back to the server. “Separate checks, please.”

“If that’s what you really want.” He gave her a conciliatory smile.

Maya nodded, relieved he’d given in so easily. She’d ordered steak and lobster. Best not to give Hot Suit Guy any ideas.

“I detect a faint accent, Maya. Are you native to Pleasure Cove?” Liam studied her.

Something about his gaze unnerved her. It penetrated her skin with a heat that trailed down her spine. “My mother is Cuban and speaks English with a heavy accent. My dad, who is African American, was a marine on active duty until I was about six. My maternal grandmother, who only spoke Spanish, lived with us, so my brother and I learned Spanish and English simultaneously. I’m fluent in both. I do have a slight accent, but mostly when—”

“You’re nervous?” One side of his mouth curved, deepening the dimple in his right cheek. “Can’t imagine why I’d make you nervous.”

Another server decanted a bottle of wine, then poured a glass for each of them. Maya picked up her glass so fast it nearly sloshed over the rim. She took a healthy sip.

Why does he make me so nervous?

If she’d met him in her business attire, and this wasn’t a semidate, she’d be confident. In control. She frequently negotiated with business executives in her work. She wasn’t easily intimidated, regardless of how rich or powerful those men were.

However, in a tiny red dress that left little of her legs and back to the imagination, she felt like a warrior going to battle without a stitch of armor.

Liam drank his wine, silently awaiting her answer.

“Sorry, I don’t do this much.” She took another sip from her wineglass.

“You don’t do what much?” He was definitely enjoying this.

“Date.” She immediately regretted her word choice. “Not that this is a date.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s a dinner date, but it isn’t a date-date. Does that make sense?” Of course not. She was babbling like a loon.

The smirk he tried to suppress brimmed over in his dark eyes. He set his glass on the table. “And why is it that a gorgeous woman like you doesn’t date much?”

“Because I’m...” A single mother of two beautiful little girls. The words caught at the back of her throat, taking her by surprise. It was the most natural thing in the world for her to say. She repeated the words, nearly by rote, every time she met someone new in a nonbusiness setting. Being Sofia and Gabriella’s mother was her primary identity, no matter what else she did in her life. She was fine with that, because she adored her daughters. Loved them more than anything in the world. Yet, as she looked at Liam, his eyes dancing over her skin, drinking her in like she was the most fascinating woman he’d ever met, something in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t allow the words to escape her mouth.

Would he look at her differently? Would she suddenly seem less attractive?

It was her birthday. The last of her twenties. For one night she could sit through a gourmet meal she didn’t have to cook and have an adult conversation with a man who thought she was beautiful. A man whose appreciative gaze made her feel beautiful—something she hadn’t felt in a while.

What was the harm in living out the fantasy for one hour of dinner conversation? She wouldn’t lie to him. But he was a stranger. He didn’t need her full biography. She’d give him the annotated version instead.