“I love this place,” Celine said, after the waitress had taken their order.
“Evidently.”
She lifted her brow at Zion. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I can only assume you come here a lot, since you and the owner are on a first-name basis.”
Celine took a sip of her water. Zion didn’t know that Sergio Moretti was just one of five local restaurant owners who volunteered to give their daily leftovers to homeless people living in Second Chances shelters. “Yes, I do come here a lot.”
No need to add that she and Sergio’s triplet sons had attended high school together. Not to get sidetracked by the reason he’d wanted to talk, she leaned over to the table and asked in a low voice, “So why did you apologize for kissing me if you enjoyed it as much as I did?”
His bushy brow dipped into an I-don’t-believe-you-asked-that frown, and she couldn’t help but smile. Oh, for crying out loud. Hadn’t he figured out by now that she was direct whenever she wanted to know something? It came with being Levy Michaels’s daughter. At her house, with her secretive father, if she didn’t ask she never knew what was going on.
“I didn’t apologize for kissing you because I hadn’t wanted to do it,” he finally said. “I apologized for doing it because I have a rule never to mix business with pleasure.”
A mischievous smile touched her lips. “And you consider me pleasure?”
He leaned back in his chair and stared at her while fingering his sexy beard. “What do you think?”
“I asked first,” she countered, watching him. He was contemplating what he would say, and whatever it was, she wished he would get it out and stop sitting there, trying to tell her why he thought of her as pleasure when his gaze was pretty much voicing it for him.
Although she was taken by his perfect pair of lips, she also thought he had the most expressive eyes. She couldn’t read him, as it was obvious he was keeping his inner feelings shielded. She recognized the tactic because she’d seen it in a lot of men and women who found shelter in her facilities. It wasn’t that they had something to hide; it was that they had something they didn’t want to share. And whatever it was served as a guard to keep people out.
To think that the successful Zion Blackstone could be grouped in that category was preposterous. Yet at Second Chances she’d seen it all. Anybody could have issues of some kind or another. Didn’t she? That was why she’d named her charity Second Chances, so people would know that there was nothing wrong with starting over.
“It’s not that complicated, Celine.”
“Then why are you making it so? You don’t mix business with pleasure—I get that. That means you see me as pleasure. Is it hard for you to admit it?”
He shrugged. “Why admit something you already know? Do you take perverse satisfaction in men admitting that you’re beautiful, and that just looking at you gives them gratification?”
If he was trying to ruffle her feathers he was wasting her time. He didn’t truly know her. If he did, then he would know she didn’t have a conceited bone in her body. She was aware of the way the tabloids portrayed her, to sell papers. She didn’t have the time or inclination to deny all the untruths they printed about her. However, she wouldn’t pass up the chance to set him straight on a few things.
“First of all, I didn’t call this meeting. You did. Secondly, if you have a problem kissing me, then keep your tongue inside your mouth. Thirdly, like any other woman, I like knowing men find me desirable. It’s nothing to be ashamed about and I’m not. It’s not like I set out to tease you, because I didn’t. In fact, I don’t recall doing anything to provoke that kiss. It just happened. That’s the way of the world when there’s sexual attraction between two individuals.”
He took a sip of his water. She felt an ache at the juncture of her thighs while she watched his lips fit on the straw, and remembered the feel of them on her mouth.
Forcing her gaze off his lips, she said, “And fourthly, don’t believe everything you read, especially when it involves me.”
“Are you finished?”
“No, not yet. Fifthly, whatever issues you’re dealing with, Zion, don’t take it out on our kiss. A kiss that was so hot the thought of it still burns my lips.”
She was grateful when, at that moment, the waiter returned with their food.
* * *
For crying out loud, did the woman say whatever she wanted? What right did she have to remind him how hot the kiss was? He, of all people, had been aware of all fifty degrees of pleasure. He’d felt the heat the moment he’d pulled her body against his and he’d breathed in her ever-arousing scent. The instant his tongue had entered her mouth and tangled with hers. She had returned the kiss as if it had been a long time since she’d been kissed by a man. Was that fact or wishful thinking on his part? Regardless, their mouths had mated in a way that still left him craving for more.
That in itself was so surreal that his body ached for her. Supposedly, they had gone to that escape room to have fun and work off nervous energy. He would admit to having fun, but he wasn’t certain he’d worked off any energy. Nervous or otherwise. What he’d done was remember that because of his workload, he hadn’t slept with a woman in months. That would be the first thing he remedied when he returned to Rome.
“If you don’t dig in, your pizza will get cold.”
Her words made him realize he was sitting there, staring at her like a demented fool. She was looking back at him with the intensity of a scientist studying the contents of a test tube.
Reaching out, he grabbed a slice of pizza, just as the waiter came to pour wine into their glasses. Good. He needed something stronger than water.
“I’ve said my piece, Zion. Now I want to give you time to speak yours,” she said.
He wanted to ignore her, just savor the slice of pizza he’d bitten into. He now understood why she kept returning here. He loved pizza and this one was simply delicious. It was obvious the owner had used an old Italian recipe. There was nothing American about it.
Licking away some of the sauce that had dribbled on his lips, he glanced over and saw Celine watching him. The look he saw in her eyes nearly made him growl. Why was she staring so hard at his mouth? Was she remembering the kiss the same way he was? Recalling how it had started off slow and easy, but then ended up hard and demanding? Having memories of how their bodies molded together while their mouths greedily feasted off each other?
He hated admitting it, but he, a man who rarely lost control, had been unable to control himself with her. She affected him in a way he didn’t understand, but he would fight tooth and nail to make sure such a thing didn’t happen again.
“Are you going to help me finish off this pizza before it gets cold?” he asked her.
She smiled as she reached for another slice. “Doesn’t matter to me. Cold or hot, I plan to eat it all. I take no prisoners.”
He wondered what she did take, and was tempted to ask her. Given her penchant for directness, Zion knew she would probably tell him. She had definitely taken his kiss without any problem. Would she take his body into hers like it belonged there? Would she take kisses on that fine ass of hers like they belonged there, as well?
For Pete’s sake, the thought of either of those scenarios had the lower part of his body throbbing. It was time he set her straight on a few things. He’d called for this meeting and now it was time to take ownership and make sure she understood his position.
“First of all, Celine, what I do have a problem with is mixing business with pleasure. I find you attractive but I don’t intend to be distracted. I came here to get to know you, not to start anything I can’t finish. I don’t need to know you intimately to make jewelry to complement you. Nor do I need to kiss you. Contrary to what you might think, I’m not taking anything out on our kiss. As much as I enjoyed it, I do regret it and I won’t let it happen again. I’m not your type and you aren’t mine, regardless of how much sexual chemistry we seem to generate.”
When she didn’t say anything, just stared at him, he decided to continue. “And I don’t believe everything I read in the tabloids, since I’ve been the target of their sensationalism a few times myself.”
“So, you see all the sexual chemistry flowing between us as wasted energy?” she asked, before biting into her pizza.
“Pretty much. So it will be up to us to keep a level head and make sure it doesn’t consume us.”
“Why should I?”
He lifted a brow. Was this her spoiled, I-can-have-anything-I-want attitude? Well, he had news for her. He had his own set of rules to follow and didn’t intend to get sidetracked. Wasn’t that how his mother had explained her one big mistake in life?
“The reason you should is because I refuse to be a willing partner,” he said, trying not to show his annoyance. “I know what I came to Los Angeles to do and that’s all I plan to do.” In other words, he didn’t intend to become any woman’s sexual pastime, not even Celine’s. No matter how badly he desired her, and he did desire her. What man wouldn’t?
The waiter came to remove their empty plates and Zion appreciated the intrusion. The way she was sitting across the table, looking at him, it was as if his words had had no effect. The heated desire still on display in her eyes rattled every cell in his body. Damn.
A slow smile spread across her lips. “Are you ready, Zion?”
He swallowed deeply, unable to break eye contact with her. “For what?”
“To go. I’m sure you have a lot to do. I expect you’ll be busy getting me those samples to look at before you leave, right? Unless you can think of something else you might want to do.”
The mere suggestion ignited something deep within him. This woman was deadly. She was lethal. Headstrong. And oh, so damn sexy. She was a seductress if ever there was one. Celine Michaels, with her beautiful face, shapely body and sassy mouth, was trying to be his downfall. But he refused to let her. There was no doubt she was a handful.
Crap! Why had she chosen that moment to stretch her body by raising her arms above her head? The move made him notice her perfect-looking breasts and envision them in his hands before easing a nipple into his mouth.
“You never did answer my question, Zion.”
He shifted his gaze from her chest to her face. “Your question?”
She chuckled, letting him know she’d been aware just where his attention had wandered. “Yes. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes,” he said, standing and placing enough bills on the table to cover their meal and leave a very generous tip. Despite his protest, she had covered the cost of the escape room, but he wouldn’t let her pay for lunch.
“I have a bad habit of wanting to have the last word, so I’m going to leave you with this prediction,” she said, standing as well. She then leaned in close and whispered, “We will make love one day, Zion Blackstone, because it will be a waste of good sexual energy for us not to.”
She then turned and walked out of the restaurant.
He watched her go and appreciated the sway of her ass with every sensual step she took. Drawing in a deep, frustrated breath, he felt fury build inside him, rippling to the same beat as his pulsating erection. Who the hell did she think she was, telling him what they would do, as if he had no say in the matter?
She was wrong. He had no intention of ever making love to Celine Michaels.