A Fated Night - Page 39

“Really.” Lana could almost imagine it. Ken Andrews, sick in bed, flipping through channels and making the mistake thinking that A Walk To Remember was some feel good romance. Lana was forced to watch that movie with her little sister and spent the whole two hours wishing Mandy Moore would go back to singing songs about licking candy. That was more Lana’s speed. “You watch tragic romance movies.”

“I watch all kinds of movies. What’s wrong with romance as a genre? I’d rather feel good about the human condition than watch another truck explode.”

“Sheesh, I really don’t get you.” Lana was almost grateful that the waiter arrived to take their orders. She would take Ken’s advice and get the salmon. “You’re a total enigma.”

“Then maybe you should take the time to get to know me better.” Ken placed his order and kept his mouth shut until the waiter quietly excused himself. “Outside of the bedroom.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Let’s talk about anything but work.”

“Good.” Ken leaned on the table, his left hand sliding across the fabric with graceful ease. Lana instinctively uncurled her fingers to take his in a light, cautious grip. “I’d like to get to know you too. Like you did say, it’s a date.” He lifted her hand and gently kissed her bent knuckles, a furtive gaze to light the ages on fire burning in his eyes.

When Lana packed her suitcase a few days ago, she never expected spending every night with a man like Ken. Hell, the only men she thought she would spend her evenings with were Roger and whatever guys he wanted to introduce her to. Being seduced – and doing some seducing on her own – her first night there wasn’t exactly on her radar, although she hadn’t been opposed to it. Seeing that same guy every night, even going so far as to accepting a real date from him and inevitably going to his place for sex? Maybe more? Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Lana didn’t do shit like that. Why? Because there were no men in the world worth doing shit like that with. One and done. Maybe more hookups here and there if they were worthy enough of her troublesome pussy.

Yet being with Ken in friendlier manners like these seemed so natural. He was easy to talk to. Willing to talk about himself while also asking Lana questions about her life, background and ambitions both included. Maybe he was the best fake listener in the world. At least he had Lana fooled after she went on a tangent about an embarrassing event in high school that garnered a laugh from him.

Almost seemed like a shame that they would have to go their separate ways in two days. But maybe, if Lana accepted a job at a New York firm… they could see each other again?

Ken was in the midst of talking about growing up with three brothers when he caught Lana staring into the distance. Their hands had never once detached through their dinners. The waiter had to contort his arms to set their dinners right in front of them. If Ken didn’t care, Lana didn’t either. This was his restaurant, after all.

“What’s wrong?”

She jerked her head back toward him. “Nothing. Thinking about what happens when I go back to DC.”

Ken squeezed her fingers with one hand and rubbed his facial hair with the other. “What happens when you go back to DC?”

Oh, boy. “I go back to my life.”

“Is it a good life, at least?”

“I suppose. It’s… you know…” She wasn’t blushing. Come on. Lana Losers didn’t blush unless making a sale depended on it. What am I selling right now? Her body? Her mind? Her time?

“No. Enlighten me.”

Lana needed more Chardonnay. Too bad they had almost downed the whole bottle while they were there. “I’ve had fun with you.”

At first she didn’t think he heard her. Then he squeezed her fingers even tighter, as if to reassure the insecurities festering in her stomach. The ones that said, “This guy doesn’t really want you. You’re a fling. Treat him like a fling too. Don’t get hurt because you were stupid.”

“It doesn’t have to end, you know.”

She was afraid he would say that. “I can’t do long distance stuff. I get quite needy, really. If I went to DC and you stayed here, I’d be calling you every night to talk about nothing and demand phone sex.”

Tags: Cynthia Dane Billionaire Romance
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