Next To Nothing!

Tyler reached for the second napkin. He dropped his arm from around her waist, but they were still shoulder to shoulder.

“Dare I ask?” He tipped his head to look at her as he blotted the water. His eyebrows quirked, and she found herself staring into the deepest, darkest, bluest eyes in the world. They were framed with thick, black lashes and shadowed by straight brows. Whoever decorated this guy had done a bang-up job.

“Ask what?” she managed as her pulse reacted to the fact that she was touching an extremely good-looking man. His biceps were rock hard, and his body heat radiated through his cotton shirt, warming her bare arm.

“Is everything all right here?” The waiter’s voice interrupted. His words conveyed concern, but his expression was more exasperated than worried.

“We could use a new tablecloth,” said Tyler evenly, dropping the wet napkin and guiding Jenna back a couple of steps. She didn’t fight the continued body contact, since she kind of liked touching him.

“Of course,” he finally said. He gathered Jenna’s wineglass and the silver setting, then scooped up the tablecloth.

Tyler glanced back down at Jenna as the man walked away. A grin formed on his face, showing off the barest hint of a dimple. “Dare I ask what you’re up to?”

“Experiencing the ambiance,” she said, her shoulder still brushing against his arm. She should have felt crowded by his proximity in the small space, but it honestly felt flirty.

“Do you always stand on your chair to experience the ambiance?” His leg shifted, brushing once against her stockings, sending her nerve endings into a tizzy.

“Oh, that,” she breathed, waving a hand toward the wall behind them. “I was just looking for windows.”

His gaze shifted to the solid wall. “I hate to be the one to tell you this…” He turned the full force of his attention back to her, and she sucked in a tight breath.

From his tousled dark hair, to his devil-may-care smile, to his deep voice and broad shoulders, this guy was drop-dead sexy.

“I think they’re behind the wall,” she explained, struggling to understand her strong reaction to a virtual stranger.

“I take it you’ve got big plans for the place?”

“It’s got loads of potential.” She should move away now, break the subtle contact between their arms and sit back down. She really should.

He glanced around the restaurant. “Not a fan of early bordello?”

She smiled. That was it. The red velvet, the orange-toned lighting, the sultry feel of the atmosphere. Jenna could easily imagine Victorian era ladies of the evening plying their trade.

“Maybe the last decorator was trying for romantic?” she suggested charitably.

Tyler’s expression turned skeptical.

“Sensual?”

“Sensual is free,” he said. “When you pay for it, it’s erotic.”

Jenna bit down on the inside of her cheek. Nope, she didn’t know this man. She wasn’t going to make a risqué joke about his bordello experience.

He caught the look in her eyes. “The answer is never.”

She shook her head, stifling a grin. “I never asked.”

“Uh-huh.” He shifted back, folding his arms. “But you were wondering.”

She shook her head. “I’m only wondering how many windows are hidden behind the wall renovations.” She kept a straight face for a moment before giving into temptation. “Of course, you were the one who recognized the bordello look right off.”

“I’ve watched westerns.”

“Westerns? Is that what they call them nowadays?”

His eyes turned to blue smoke, and he slowly took in her tight dress, stockings and high heels. “Decorators?” he drawled. “Is that what they call them nowadays?”

“Should I get out of this conversation while the getting is good?”

“Since we’ve both agreed we’re standing in a bordello. And since you’re the prettiest woman in the room. And since I’m about to make you an offer…Yeah, we should both get out of this conversation before I get my face slapped.”

“You couldn’t afford me anyway,” she boldly tossed out in a Mae West voice before stepping away from him and slipping into her chair.

He was silent for half a heartbeat as he took a seat across the table. Then his bass voice rolled. “Don’t bet on it.”

His dark eyes smoldered, and Jenna’s entire body contracted.

Wow.

Nobody had ever looked at her like that before—sliding a white-hot gaze straight past her inhibitions.

“May I offer you a cocktail, sir?” The waiter interrupted, his formal tone almost icy. He stood to one side while a busboy swiftly replaced the tablecloth then set out silverware, menus and a new candle.

“Scotch,” said Tyler, not appearing the least bit fazed by the waiter’s tone. “Glenlochlan. And another glass of wine for the lady.”

TYLER SETTLED BACK in the wide comfortable chair and watched the candlelight flicker on Jenna’s flushed cheeks. She’d surprised him. Shocked the hell out of him, actually.

He’d been expecting a cold, brittle, uptight gold digger. What he got was a warm, funny, down-to-earth woman who could give as good as she got and was obviously serious about her business. Brandon was definitely getting his money’s worth.

Her hair must have started the evening piled neatly on top of her head. But it was a little worse for wear now. Stray wisps teased her delicate ears and dangled around her square-cut emerald earrings.

The earrings matched the tight sheath of a dress she wore. It had probably started the evening a little higher and neater, too. Not that he minded. Not as long as they were hidden away in a dark corner where nobody else could get a glimpse of her cleavage.

A gentleman would tell her about her precarious hold on decency. Luckily, Tyler had never been a gentleman.

The waiter appeared and placed the scotch in front of Tyler and the wine in front of Jenna.

“Will you be placing your order now?” he asked, notepad at the ready, his dour expression aimed at Jenna.

Tyler hoped she’d hit him with a one-liner, but she bit her bottom lip guiltily and quickly reached for the menu.