She began to wonder if he didn’t wear cologne, if that musky fragrance was his own personal animal scent. ‘Do you wear cologne?’ she blurted out.

Even the bartender turned around at the weirdness in her voice.

‘I mean,’ she quickly said, trying to do calm and collected, ‘it seems like a familiar scent. Or is it one of those personal fragrances distilled for you?’

Dominic smiled. ‘It must be the shampoo. I don’t wear cologne.’

‘Oh,’ she said, because her mind was blank with the exception of the words ‘animal scent’, which she had no intention of discussing. And rather than stammer on under that amused gaze, she picked up her drink and downed it.

The bartender began to move, Dominic gave him a look that stopped him. ‘You better pace yourself, Miss Hart,’ Dominic said, pleasantly. ‘Or you won’t remember dinner.’

‘I never get drunk.’

‘A shame,’ he said.

She looked up at his tone.

He smiled. ‘I thought we were going to have fun tonight.’

Ohmygod, could she freeze this moment in time? The sinful look in his eyes, the heart-stopping smile on his gorgeous mouth, that little lift of his brows that was hotter than hell.

But before she could answer, before whatever she was about to say appeared in the gossip columns tomorrow, Dominic turned to the bartender. ‘Would you call down and see if our car is here?’

As the man walked away, Dominic leaned in close and whispered, ‘I am so fucking hard.’

She looked down, his erection huge, the fly of his trousers strained to the max. Her breath caught, her body opened in undisguised welcome and she was about to impulsively blurt out ‘Let’s skip dinner.’

But he spoke first. ‘So don’t get too close, Miss Hart. We have reservations. And I’m hungry.’

Wide-eyed, she whispered, ‘Can you just stop everything like that?’

He held her gaze. ‘I can do anything, Miss Hart.’ His voice took on a raspy edge. ‘I’ll show you later.’ Then he tossed a few bills on the bar for Po, stood and with complete nonchalance as though he’d not just spoken in a rough, harsh tone, flicked his hand towards the elevators. ‘Shall we? The car’s waiting.’

He described the restaurant and its reputation as they walked to the elevator, the conversation one-sided with Kate trying to suppress her all-consuming desire. She was still trembling slightly when the elevator began its descent.

He stood across from her, humming softly. He glanced at her. ‘I’m in the mood for steak. What about you?’

‘Don’t talk to me,’ she breathed, trying to get a grip on her frenzied nerves, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

‘Think of something else. You’ll relax.’

‘We aren’t all automatons,’ she said with a little sniff.

‘I know. That’s one of the things I like about you. Your spontaneity.’

She shot him a harried look. ‘While your world view is pure logic.’

‘Maybe you could reform me.’ He smiled as the elevator doors opened. ‘Would you like to try?’ He held out his hand.

‘I can’t think of a more hopeless project. And I’m not touching you.’

His hand dropped. ‘You first, Miss Hart.’ He held open the door for her and as she passed by, gave her a sunny smile. ‘Maybe you could look on me as one of those puzzles you like to solve. Max says you like the complicated ones.’

‘I don’t see myself in a therapist’s role,’ she said over her shoulder.

He caught up to her in two strides, swung in front of her, came to a stop and took a quick step back so she didn’t run into him. ‘What role were you considering?’ he lazily asked, his gaze resting for a moment on the neckline of her dress.

‘I thought you were hungry.’

‘It can wait. I’m curious. Do you like to play games?’

‘I don’t know. Do you?’

‘That’s what I do. You haven’t played before? Would you like to?’

There was a splintering silence while she debated how to answer and he debated what he’d do if she answered one way or the other.

‘You’re the kind of man who might leave scars,’ she said a moment later, her voice deliberate as though clarifying her position not just to him but to herself. ‘But you’re also the kind of man who might end up leaving a tattoo on my sex life that I’ll enjoy looking at later. Something between hearts and flowers and your blood type inked into my psyche. You hit me that hard. So give me a little time. It’s complicated.’

‘Complicated is better. More intense.’ Then he smiled almost shyly, although it was still a lion’s smile. ‘Maybe I’ll give you a rose tattoo. Something dew-fresh like you.’

‘Maybe you won’t give me anything. I still haven’t made up my mind. I’m not sure I’m looking for trouble.’

He laughed. ‘And I’m trouble. Fair enough, Miss Hart. I won’t argue about that.’ He dipped his head, so their eyes were level. ‘I like your honesty. Take your time. I won’t rush you.’

‘You couldn’t anyway.’

He lifted his head and smiled. ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he politely said, not about to discuss what he could do or could not do. ‘Now let’s get out of here.’

CHAPTER 8