One Wild Wedding Night_ Runaway - Leslie Kelly [13]
She was, in every respect, delightful. And she most definitely delighted him. So much so that he wondered whether one night with her could possibly be enough.
Chapter 4
Slone Kincaid had predicted she’d like his place, but it wasn’t until they reached his building, a glass-and-steel high-rise overlooking Lake Michigan , that she fully appreciated his prediction. She was awed when she walked—openmouthed—into the penthouse apartment. Not only because it was loaded with artwork that looked like it should be in a museum and furniture so warm and rich that she was afraid to sit on it, but also because the place was about as big as a football field.
But that wasn’t all. He’d predicted she’d like his bed. When she saw the enormous plush monstrosity dominating the master bedroom and realized the man slept on something that could double as an aircraft carrier, she announced, “Like it? I freakin’ love it!”
“I thought you might.”
“And you own it?”
He nodded, crossing to the other side of the room to close the drapes overlooking the sparkling lake—christened with dollops of white ice—in the distance. “Yes.”
Suddenly struck by something, Leah threw her arms akimbo and said, “This is so Pretty Woman.”
“But she was a prostitute.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on, did you ever really buy her as a working girl?”
“Let’s not use me as the gauge, considering how our evening started.”
Laughing, Leah spun around, kicking off her shoes so her feet could sink into the plush carpeting. She’d seen places like this in movies, but couldn’t believe people actually lived in them. “You live here all by yourself?”
“Some of the help comes by, but for the most part, yes.”
“Then why on earth were you in that crummy bar? If I lived in a place like this, I’d never leave.”
“That might get lonely,” he murmured.
She snapped her fingers. “I’d just summon people here if I needed them.”
Beginning to unbutton the dress shirt he’d just put back on in the car, he chuckled. “Summon? That sounds a little…arrogant.” Leah offered him a wry stare. He immediately got the point and tilted his chin up, in mock offense. “What makes you think I’m arrogant?”
“You did accuse me of being a hooker who was trying to trap you by stowing away in your car.”
He shrugged…a mere trifle, obviously. “Other than that.”
“You take whatever you want.” Including her.
“And?”
“You certainly aren’t used to being told no.”
“Funny, I don’t recall that word coming out of your mouth tonight,” he said with a tiny, wicked smile. He stepped closer, shirtless, his lean, muscled body absolutely amazing in the full light of the room.
The man obviously didn’t sit behind a desk all day.
Unable to contain a shaky sigh, she murmured, “Wow, you have got it going on.”
He quirked a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad one?”
“Good. Definitely good.”
“Then thank you. Now, are you going to take that dress off or are we going to try it…through the fabric?”
Leah gasped, remembering the way she’d taunted him earlier. It was very wicked. And very tempting. But also very out of the question. “Uh-uh. This dress cost me a whole week’s pay.”
He reached for her sleeve, trailing his fingers along it. “I’ll buy you another one.”
The playful, teasing tone said she should take no offense, but Leah stiffened, anyway. “Do we need to go back over that whole ‘I’m not a prostitute’ thing?”
His hand fell away and he stared at her in shock. “What?”
She may have overreacted. Guys like Kincaid were probably used to buying stuff for their spoiled girlfriends. But she wasn’t one of them—she was a one-night diversion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so touchy. Just want to make sure we’re clear: I’m here because I want to be here.” She stepped closer, lifting a hand to his bare chest, stroking her fingertips across one flat nipple, then lightly raking her nails down his side. “Because