Scent of a Woman. Jo Leigh

wasn’t sure why.

      The music from the bookstore spun in her head, and with it came an idea. A way to make tonight perfect. Scheherazade. She was the answer. Susan smiled as the evening unfolded in her mind’s eye. It would be lovely. If he went along with her.

      Another sip of the cold drink as she looked around the bar. It was very small as far as hotel bars went. But it was comfortable with its dark oak and wine leather booths. This was her turf. Nothing could go wrong here, not in the serious sense. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She could be stood up. Humiliated.

      She ran a hand down her dress and forced herself to steer clear of those thoughts. She should have worn the black Prada. No. This one was better. Simpler. A wave of nervous tension hit her in the stomach. Oh, jeez, what if she threw up all over him? What if her plan was foolish and awkward?

      This was a serious mistake. Sure, she’d felt reckless, restless, but this was taking things too far. She’d leave, and forget she’d ever thought of such a crazy—

      “Hello.”

      Susan jerked up to see Mr. Gorgeous not two feet away. Holy… She had to struggle to keep the expression out of her face. It would blow everything all to hell if he knew that her heart thumped against her chest as if it was trying to get out. “Hello,” she said back, thankful for all the years she’d practiced being a bitch. She had the exact right tone. Low, sexy, in charge.

      He smiled, held out his hand. “David.”

      “Su—”

      “Sue?”

      She nodded. “For now.”

      “Not Scheherazade?”

      She slipped her hand into his, and when he closed his fingers, she felt herself slide another inch down the long treacherous slope of pure insanity. “No. But there are similarities.”

      David held on to her hand while his left brow arched. “Is the King of Persia bothering you again? Because I’ve told him time and time again—”

      She laughed, but not loudly enough that she missed the slight hitch in his breath. When he swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob, she knew he was just as nervous as she was. My God, he was pretty. Which wasn’t the important part, she knew that. It sure as hell didn’t hurt, though.

      “May I?” he asked, finally taking his hand away and sliding onto the stool next to hers.

      The bartender came and took his order, a scotch, neat. She shook her head when David offered to refill her martini. This was no time to hide behind an alcoholic haze. Just being near him was a bit intoxicating, and if she threw in the fact that their suite was waiting…

      “Are you all right?”

      She nodded. Smiled. “I didn’t think you’d be here, either.”

      He smiled back, making her want to lick his lower lip. “I’m not sure why I did come,” he said. “I, uh, don’t usually…”

      “Go out with women who bite your ear?”

      Even in the dim light of the bar, she could see him flush. A man who blushed! What a treat. What a rarity. How delicious.

      “I confess, that was a first for me.”

      “Me, too.”

      “So nibbling on ears isn’t your standard ice-breaker?”

      She shook her head. “No.”

      “Hmm. How did I get so lucky?”

      Susan took a slow sip of her drink, stalling for time as she made her decision about the next few minutes. She liked him. The chemistry was undeniable, and he had a sense of humor, too. He wasn’t at all the kind of man she wanted for a one-night stand. But maybe this didn’t have to be. Maybe, if she was a clever girl, this could be a prelude. To what, she wasn’t sure. But, despite the risks, or maybe because of them, she was going to find out.

      She put her glass down, then turned to him with her most wicked and enticing smile. “If you think that was lucky…”

      3

      DAVID FINISHED HIS SCOTCH in one gulp and managed not to choke to death.

      Her words still shimmered in the air, their meaning sinking in one vivid image at a time. He struggled for focus, finding it when his gaze met her lips. Full, lush lips. That would look incredible wrapped around his—

      “Maybe not that lucky,” she said, her low voice tinged with humor.

      He cleared his throat, troubled that his expression had been so unguarded. “Okay,” he said, amazed he sounded somewhat normal. “How lucky?”

      “You’ll see.” She caught the bartender’s attention, nodded, then slipped off the bar stool. She picked up her purse and coat from beside her, then turned to him. Her lashes lowered, shyly, then she opened her eyes and met his gaze. The invitation in her gaze told him most of what he needed to know.

      He stood, then went for his wallet.

      “It’s taken care of,” she said.

      “Wait a minute—”

      “Don’t worry about it. Tonight’s on me. I invited you, remember?”

      “I don’t—”

      She put one finger on his lips. “We can talk about money for as long as you like. Or we can go upstairs.”

      He took her wrist in his hand, then headed for the elevators, pulling her along after him. Forcing himself not to run.

      He was in. Committed. To whatever was going to happen.

      Charley would be shocked out of his mind. Jane would understand completely.

      This wasn’t his normal modus operandi. When he dated, which wasn’t that often anymore, he always did the right thing. Maybe a kiss on the first date. Flowers. Three, maybe four dates later, if it ever got that far, there would be sex. Safe sex. And not just because he used a condom. It was safe in every way. He never truly let go, too afraid to upset the very nice women he found himself with. Sometimes, they’d get a little wild, like sex in the shower, or on the kitchen table.

      But the sex, even when it was very good, had never been enough. Not that the women he’d met weren’t great. They were to a one. But none of them had been right. One was too flighty, one too prissy. Kathy had been close, but the woman hadn’t read a book since high school. Allison never shut up. Kim, no, Kerry, she’d been fine in the bedroom but awful in public. Her laugh had been loud, garish…

      Tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, he wasn’t Dr. David Levinson. He was a stranger. Meeting a stranger. Who could be anyone.

      The ideas tumbled inside him, one more enticing than the next. He was already hard, and they were still in the lobby. He’d have to slow himself down if he wanted tonight to be everything it promised. He said a silent prayer to whoever was listening. Please.

      Susan clutched her coat, each step making her more and more aware of what she was about to do. In very short order she was going to be in a room, which was primarily a bed, with a man she hardly knew. A man whose touch made all sorts of unpredictable things happen inside her.

      They were across the lobby in no time, then he pushed the button for the elevator. He hadn’t let her go, and she became terribly aware of his hand circling her wrist. He was long and lean, a runner or a swimmer she’d guess, and strong. She felt his banked energy in the way he held her so carefully. As if he could break her.

      Her gaze met his, and her own curiosity was echoed in his eyes.

      “Sue,” he said softly, trying her name out.

      Unfortunately, she hated being called Sue. It rankled each time she heard it, which wasn’t in the game plan for the night. “Susan.”

      He nodded slowly. “Better.”