Private Sessions. Tori Carrington

slowly along the silver. He could think of one place in particular where he’d like to see her do that, and the idea was so tempting it was more intoxicating than the snifter of cognac he’d ordered along with his coffee.

      “I could also ask why you were free on a Friday evening.” He hiked a brow. “Or did you cancel something?”

      “You’re redirecting the conversation. Again.”

      Caleb chuckled and narrowed his eyes as he considered her.

      “Okay.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table between them. “I recently found myself at the end of six-month relationship,” he said. “And hadn’t thought about not having company this weekend. And, the truth is, I do not like to dine alone.”

      She appeared surprised that he’d offered up what he had. She leaned forward, as well, their hands nearly meeting on the table. “I appreciate the honesty, but that still doesn’t explain why you called me.”

      “I called you,” he began, turning his hands palm up, aware of the way they itched to touch her, her cheek, her neck, her breasts…. “Because I was reasonably sure that you wouldn’t sleep with me tonight.”

      That apparently surprised her as she sat back. But she recovered quickly.

      She didn’t appear in any hurry to offer up a response. And he liked that. Indeed, he enjoyed watching her face as she turned his explanation over in her beautiful head, her eyes growing dark, her smile provocatively sexy.

      He’d bet she was slowly rubbing her foot against the calf of her other leg under the table.

      “Reasonably?” she asked, her voice quiet and loaded with suggestion.

      Nice. “Mmm.”

      “Because?”

      “Because you wouldn’t want me to get the wrong impression.”

      She smiled. “Ah, because of our business connection.”

      “There is no business connection.”

      “Yet.”

      He grinned. “Yet.”

      “So you think I’m above sleeping with someone for business gain,” she said quietly, putting another forkful of torte in her mouth. A mouth that was driving him to absolute distraction.

      “I think you’re very much above it.”

      “And if I invited you back to my place?”

      “I’d have to insist we go to mine….”

      OKAY, SO HE’D CALLED her bluff.

      And Bryna practically shivered from head to toe at the thought of going through with it.

      It had been sweet torture sitting across from him, wanting to know more, but unable to find the words with which to ask him.

      Oh, they’d talked. But she’d been too distracted by the line of his jaw … the strength of his hands … the length of his fingers … the sureness of his dark gaze to challenge him to a verbal rather than visual duel.

      And now she had the chance at a physical contest.

      The heat of his hand where it rested on her arm as they walked toward the restaurant door seared her bare flesh.

      At the curb, a limo instantly pulled up and the driver came out to open the door for them.

      If she got into that car, she knew she’d be a goner. She would be unable to stop herself from going as far as he intended to take this. And while an elemental, wild side of her was all for it, her mind cried out that it was too fast, too soon. To sleep with him would be placing the advantage in his court and swipe all the balls from hers.

      Instead of entering the car, she turned toward him, finding him so close that her thigh ended up pressing against a certain, nicely rock-hard part of him. She shivered and looked up into his eyes, her hand resting against his chest.

      “As tempting as the invitation is,” she whispered, her breath grazing the jaw she’d been wanted to taste all night, “I’m afraid you’re right. There’s no chance I’m going to sleep with you tonight.”

      He smelled of limes and one hundred percent hot male.

      She watched the corners of his mouth turn up. “Shame,” he said, his fingers brushing against her hips and then resting there, pulling her imperceptibly closer to him, crowding her against his arousal.

      “Mmm,” she agreed, her heart pounding a loud rhythm in her chest.

      She leaned in as if to kiss him, her gaze moving from his eyes to his mouth and back again.

      She stepped back instead and waved for a taxi.

      “Thank you for dinner,” she murmured.

      “Thank you for the company.”

      “Anytime.”

      His eyes sparkled dangerously. “I might just take you up on that offer.”

      She hoped he did.

      SO SOFT … SO WARM …

      Her body throbbed with yearning, wet, needy. She arched her back, reaching for Caleb as he leaned above her. But he always seemed just out of reach, smiling that knowing, wicked grin….

      Her own moan woke her up.

      Bryna rose quickly to her elbows and pushed back the tangle of hair in her eyes. She blinked her old bedroom at the Metaxas estate into view. White-curtained canopy. Pink-and-white wallpaper. A white marble fireplace. Stuffed animals stacked up in one corner.

      She blew out a long breath. It had been two days since she’d said goodbye to Caleb at the restaurant, and ever since he’d haunted her dreams. Always there, always just within reach, yet outside it.

      Bryna whipped the covers back and maneuvered her bare legs over the side of the bed, paying little mind that her simple cotton nightgown was bunched up around her thighs. She reached for her cell on the nightstand and clicked it open. No calls. No texts. She closed it again and put it back down and then padded across the large room toward the connecting bathroom.

      Friday night it had taken all of her will after getting into that cab not to direct the driver to turn around and follow the limo instead. The reaction had surprised her. She’d never met a man who’d gotten under her skin to such a mind-robbing degree. She wanted to feel his hands on her. Wanted to put her mouth on him. Wanted to spend the night exploring the seeds of sensation their dinner together had planted in her. So much so that to prevent herself from pursuing him the next day, she’d driven back to Earnest for the night when usually she drove up Sunday morning for family brunch.

      Within twenty minutes Bryna was showered and dressed in a white slacks and a purple short-sleeved blouse, no less bothered than she’d been when she’d awakened. But determined to shake off the peculiar feelings any which way she could.

      She slid into her sandals and went downstairs. It was nine and brunch wasn’t until ten-thirty, but she wasn’t surprised when she found her uncle Percy and Troy already up and on the back deck enjoying coffee.

      “Good morning.” She kissed her uncle on the check and squeezed her cousin’s shoulder as she passed on the way to the chair next to him.

      “Well, good morning to you, too,” Percy said, folding the business section of the paper and placing it on the table. “Nice to see you here so early.”

      “I actually came in last night,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

      “Oh? Any particular reason for that?”

      Just that she couldn’t seem to get a maddening man out of her mind, that’s all. “No. Just decided I’d like to wake up at home this morning, that’s all.”

      And the grand ol’ estate was that, wasn’t it? All 800 acres of land and 25,000 square feet