Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol 1) - Page 10

Right?

Oh, god. Did I make it up? Had he just been friendly, and I assumed it was more because I was lost in gaga land?

Just as I was about to abandon ship and slink away, his lips soften again to a smirk, his tongue slicking across his bottom lip again.

“No. No girlfriend to talk to. What about you? A boyfriend?”

A boyfriend? No. An arranged fiancé? Well, he didn’t ask about that.

“No.”

“Well, then there is no one to protest me asking you out.”

“I guess not.”

His smirk grew at my evasive answers as he took a step closer. I craned my neck back to meet his eyes that now looked like pools of warm chocolate without the sun bringing out all the hidden depths. “How about drinks this Friday?”

“How about dinner on Friday, and we’ll see about drinks?”

God, who was I? I wasn’t this dominant woman who demanded what she wanted. I wasn’t meek by any means, but usually, Raelynn filled the role of seductress who didn’t hesitate to ask for what she wanted.

Either way, his smile grew, and a soft laugh escaped as if impressed.

Lifting my chin higher, I waited for his answer. If he shot me down, then at least I’d walk away with one hell of a story.

He stepped closer, almost closing the gap. “Deal.”

I tipped my head back more and slowly dragged my teeth across my lips. He did the same, and the sexiest rumble escaped his lips that had my knees shaking. Fuck, this was crazy. We were in the middle of a lobby after literally colliding, and everything around us ceased to exist. My body throbbed with a need for him to wrap me in his arms and lift me high enough, so I could discover for myself how much his soft, pillowy lip would give under my teeth.

As if I willed him to do it, he leaned down.

Two things happened in the moment of only inches between us.

One, the strong scent of alcohol hit me before his lips could. And two, someone was calling my name.

“Miss Barrone.”

Flustered, I stepped back and blinked, bringing myself back to the reality of where we were, and turned to find Ryan coming out of the elevator, his hand clutched around a small rectangle.

Had he seen me about to make out with a stranger in the lobby? Oh, my god, if he did, would he think less of me? Years of training to always be aware of how I looked and acted in public vanished in the presence of the man behind me. Not only would my dad be ashamed, but my mother would too. I’d been taught better.

“Miss Barrone,” he said again, a little out of breath. He smiled when he saw me, and nothing on his face showed that he saw me about commit a PDA. “I thought I’d have missed you. You forgot your phone.”

“Oh, thank you so much. I can’t believe I did that.” I turned back to my sexy stranger with an embarrassed smile to find him completely different than a moment before. His eyes no longer held any warmth. His lips no longer soft and inches from mine. His smile was nowhere to be seen. Left in its place was a man who looked like he was built from stone—his face cast in shadow. He made the cold man I saw in the restaurant look like a sunny oasis compared to who stood before me now.

“Mr. Rush, back just in time,” Ryan said behind me.

Mr. Rush? Rush, Rush, Rush? As in the Mr. Rush.

“Miss Barrone was the last interview of the day, and I have to admit, she’s a perfect fit for Rush Shipping.”

The owner of the company? The man who was supposed to interview me? The man who bailed last minute? The man who smelled of alcohol before three in the afternoon?

The man who I almost begged to maul me in the middle of an office lobby?

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I struggled to pull myself together.

His eyes flashed to mine, and I rued the day I ever had the confidence to pursue a man so boldly. I should have just run.

Clearing my throat, I stood tall and offered my hand with an uncomfortable smile I hoped alleviated the awkwardness of the moment. “Mr. Rush, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Any hope of softening the statue before me vanished when he looked at my extended hand, and his lip curled in disgust. “Did you know I owned the company?”

“What?” I asked, slowly dropping my hand.

“Did. You. Know. I owned. The company?” he asked slower as if that would make it make more sense.

“Ummm…No. I mean, I knew Nicholas Rush owned the company, but I didn’t know that was you.”

His jaw ticked, and he took a step closer, but this time it wasn’t in passion, but to intimidate.

Tags: Fiona Cole Blame it on the Alcohol Romance
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