Cinderella's Big Sky Groom

Then she blinked. “No.” Her voice was firmer now. “I really don’t want dessert.”

Time to call for the check. But he didn’t. “Well, you’ll wait for me, won’t you, if I want some?”

“Of course.”

“Coffee?”

“I’d love some.”

He signaled the waiter and whispered in the man’s ear.

“What did you tell him?” she demanded when the waiter had hurried off.

“Guess.”

She laughed again. God, he really did like the sound of her laugh.

“I know what you did. You told him it was my birthday, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Oh, Ross…”

It was the first time she’d called him Ross. He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Liked it far too much.

“You can blow out the candle,” he said. “And I’ll eat the cake.”

Three waiters appeared, singing the birthday song.

They marched to the table, and put the slice of cake with its single candle in front of her. The song ended. Delicately she blew out the flame.

“Happy birthday!” the waiters chorused one more time.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, giggling like a kid and clapping her hands.

The waiters served the coffee, then made themselves scarce.

Lynn plucked the candle from the cake, set it on a side dish and slid the plate across to him. “There you go. Indulge yourself.”

He picked up his fork. “You sure you won’t have any?”

“Don’t you start in again.”

“Just one little bite…?” He pressed the side of the fork down through the layers of chocolate shavings, snow-white icing, dark cake, and that impossible, silky whipped-truffle center. “I’m telling you, this tastes as good as it looks.” He held up the fork.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Do you ever quit?”

“Never. It’s not in my nature.”

She looked at the fork and the bite of cake balanced there. “If I taste it, will you leave me alone?”

“Unless you beg me for more.”

“I won’t.”

It sounded to him like a challenge. An utterly erotic one.

A challenge he had to keep telling himself he would not accept.

“Yes or no?” he dared in return.

And she did it.

She leaned forward. He gave her the cake, watching those soft lips open to take it in.

Her eyes closed. “Umm.” Her mouth moved as she tasted it, savored the heady mix of rich flavors. She swallowed.

“More?”

“No, thank you.”

He held her eyes for a moment, that silken web of awareness spinning, dizzily now, all around them. And then he lowered the fork and took a bite for himself.

Enjoy it, Garrison, he told himself. Imagine you can taste her, in the cream and the chocolate, on the silver prongs of this fork. It’s all you’re going to have of her. Because she’s not going to beg for more. And you’re not going to push her.

You want only a single night.

And she…

She’s looking for a prince.

Too soon, the cake was nothing but a few crumbs on a china plate. He signaled for the check and signed for it. The waiter brought her coat, started to hold it up for her.

Jealous of every last touch, Ross rose from his chair. “Here.” The waiter handed it over.

Lynn stood and he helped her into it, as he had once before, in that shop with all the women watching, taking longer this time than he needed to, because the scent of her, the reality of her, was right there—too close, and much too tempting. His knuckles brushed cashmere and burned.

Silently he called himself a number of crude names.

He was hard. Had been since the moment she took his fork into her mouth. Fully aroused, like some green kid who couldn’t keep it down even in public. At least his jacket covered the bulge.

Once she had the coat on, he put his hand at the small of her back, under the pretense of guiding her toward the door. But she didn’t really need guiding. She knew damn well where the door was. He put his hand on her so that he could feel her, the softness, the womanflesh of her, under all the layers of clothing that protected her from him.

The hostess murmured, “Have a nice evening, Mr. Garrison,” as they passed the reservation podium.

He nodded. “Good night.”

They were out the door, standing on the street in the darkness with the icy Montana wind blowing down from the mountains, before he remembered that he’d yet to bring up the matter of Jennifer McCallum.