A Silken Thread - Brenda Jackson [55]
She frowned. “Well, it is to me.”
“I don’t see why. I’m a man and you’re a woman. I’m attracted to you and have been for a while.”
She knew for certain that was a crock. There was no way he’d been attracted to her. Oh, he might have the hots for her tonight. After all, like he’d said, he was a man and she was a woman and there was definite sexual chemistry boiling over between them. You would have to be dead not to notice it. But to say he’d been attracted to her for a while was spreading a lie a little too thick for her taste.
She decided not to say anything as they continued their ride up to her floor. Of course the unspoken question looming between them was what would happen once they get there. Would he expect her to invite him in? Should she? Her nerves were getting frayed and she needed to do something to get them smoothed over.
She released a deep sigh and looked down at the floor. And he really thought it wasn’t complicated? If he only knew.
Griffin doubted she realized it but her sigh just now had been long and deep. She was finding what was between them complicated and he didn’t understand why. She was a single woman and he was a single man and they clicked. Hell, they did more than just click. If given the chance they would burn up the sheets. She was fire and he was kerosene. Together they would be explosive.
The elevator door swooshed open and he stood back to let her precede him. Together they began walking down the long hall. She’d already taken her passkey out of her purse and held it in her hand along with the gift-wrapped box. He’d meant what he told her. The necklace was hers to keep.
She stopped in front of her door and released another sigh, something she’d done quite often tonight. “Well, this is my room.”
He glanced at the room door and smiled. “Funny, it’s also my address.”
She lifted a brow. “Excuse me?”
He chuckled. “Room 1234 and I live at 1234 Morgantown Place. Now, isn’t that a coincidence?”
“Yes, rather interesting.” She paused for a moment and then said, “I really appreciate you walking me to my room, and about this necklace…”
“What about it?”
“It’s something we need to talk more about.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “All right, when do you want to discuss it? I have time now if you do.”
She eyed him warily while nervously running her tongue across her bottom lip—a gesture that was stirring up heat in his groin. He couldn’t help the slow smile that touched the corners of his lips. He’d never considered April to be the nervous kind. She’d always come off as outspoken. He’d heard how she’d given several guys around town a blistering earful when they’d figured that, since she’d lived on what some considered the less desirable side of Hattersville, she would be one of those girls to put out without batting an eye. She’d proven them wrong.
As if she’d made up her mind about something, she straightened and said, “Now is fine. And I have a bottle of wine in my room, compliments of Oprah, if you’d like some.”
He gave her another small smile. Some was what he wanted and some was what he planned on getting. “That sounds great. Thanks.”
He stood back to give her room to open the door and seconds later he glanced at her room number as he followed her inside. He didn’t believe in curses, so he definitely wasn’t a superstitious person, either; but he had a feeling once he walked over the threshold he would get to experience something mind-blowing.
Rita placed the novel on her nightstand, feeling drowsy, and hoped she’d finally be able to get some sleep. She had ended up taking the rest of the week off work. To satisfy Brian she had gone to see her doctor, although she hadn’t needed to do so to know what was wrong with her.
She was having withdrawals just like Lori had warned. Withdrawals, right along with the guilt she was carrying around on her shoulders, and that meant a lot of sleepless nights since returning from Sweden.
There wasn’t a night that went by that she didn’t think about Wilson