because I’ve seen the bad side of gambling I don’t know how to play poker? It would be my pleasure to accept your challenge.”
“Hmmmm,” she said, doing a quick tally of their respective garments. Jeans, T-shirt, underpants, boat-shoes, watch. Six chances for him. Shorts, top, bra, panties, earrings, watch, and ... sandals. She edged her feet towards them.
“Uh-uh! We start even.”
Damn you, Alex. But it’s seven for me because there are two earrings. I’ve still one chance more than you.
“Fine,” she said. “You’re a dead man, Alex Beaufort. No sugar thanks.”
He poured. They sipped. The croissants were so fresh and flaky they practically floated up without assistance.
“You have a crumb,” he murmured, reaching across to brush a finger over her lower lip. “Lick.”
Kerri licked. There was no crumb. Their eyes held, and he didn’t draw back. His hand stayed warm against her face for a few seconds.
I bet he’s trying to spoil my concentration. Make me lose my nerve.
“You have a crumb, too. A flake, right here,” she said, reaching across to the neck of his white T-shirt. She slid her finger up to his Adam’s apple and then down again, unable to keep away from that smooth tanned skin. The cords in his throat tightened.
“There—gone,” she said, pretending to lick something off her finger.
Do it to me and I’ll do it right back. I’ll call your bluff anytime, Monsieur.
But as she ate, Kerri knew with rising trepidation there was only one likely outcome to two unattached people voluntarily getting undressed together. Had she just indicated she wanted to have sex with him? Was he looking quite pleased at the prospect? How could she redeem herself?
“That was a very silly offer I just made,” she said in a small voice.
“What did you offer me, Kerri?”
“You know exactly what it sounded like I was offering...”
“And were you offering? Let’s get this straight before I get my hopes up, hmm?” His eyes flashed a hot blue invitation.
“Were you accepting?” she countered.
“I accepted a game of strip poker, oui .”
She drew a frustrated breath and stayed silent for a few moments.
“Well—no—I mean...”
“No?”
“Are you winding me up, Alex Beaufort?”
The corners of his mouth kicked up and Kerri felt her resolve slipping away. A warm unsettling glow shimmered below her belly button. And lower, a nice little tickle needed rubbing. She wriggled on the seat, wondering if that would help. No—worse if anything.
“I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” she flannelled. “I’ve never—um—offered to make love to a man. It’s not my thing.”
“Offering, or making love?”
“Neither, Alex! Neither is my thing...”
“Making love is ‘not your thing’?” His intense blue eyes danced over her with disbelief. “Kerri, I’m not a man who makes a habit of hauling a woman onto my lap so suddenly. And certainly not…er…letting my hands roam the way they did. But you provoked me most unreasonably. You sat there with your eyes challenging me, and those sexy red shoes making your legs look so long. You had love-making oozing from every pore.”
Oh my God—how can he think that? No-one’s ever said I’m the least bit sexy.
She swallowed hard and forced out a disbelieving, “Hah!”
His eyes held hers. “And you didn’t fake that orgasm. How can you claim you don’t like making love?”
She twisted her hands together.
“Well, normally I don’t like it as much as that. I mean...it’s never... Oh God, Alex—for some reason you turned me on, okay? It was nice.”
“And you’d like to do it again?”
“No.”
“No? So we’ll just have a game of strip poker then? Get each other undressed and sit in the sun with another cup of coffee, perhaps?”
Kerri knew she’d painted herself into a corner and had no idea how to escape. She abhorred being trapped, and this was even worse because she’d set the trap
“Hmmmm,” she said, doing a quick tally of their respective garments. Jeans, T-shirt, underpants, boat-shoes, watch. Six chances for him. Shorts, top, bra, panties, earrings, watch, and ... sandals. She edged her feet towards them.
“Uh-uh! We start even.”
Damn you, Alex. But it’s seven for me because there are two earrings. I’ve still one chance more than you.
“Fine,” she said. “You’re a dead man, Alex Beaufort. No sugar thanks.”
He poured. They sipped. The croissants were so fresh and flaky they practically floated up without assistance.
“You have a crumb,” he murmured, reaching across to brush a finger over her lower lip. “Lick.”
Kerri licked. There was no crumb. Their eyes held, and he didn’t draw back. His hand stayed warm against her face for a few seconds.
I bet he’s trying to spoil my concentration. Make me lose my nerve.
“You have a crumb, too. A flake, right here,” she said, reaching across to the neck of his white T-shirt. She slid her finger up to his Adam’s apple and then down again, unable to keep away from that smooth tanned skin. The cords in his throat tightened.
“There—gone,” she said, pretending to lick something off her finger.
Do it to me and I’ll do it right back. I’ll call your bluff anytime, Monsieur.
But as she ate, Kerri knew with rising trepidation there was only one likely outcome to two unattached people voluntarily getting undressed together. Had she just indicated she wanted to have sex with him? Was he looking quite pleased at the prospect? How could she redeem herself?
“That was a very silly offer I just made,” she said in a small voice.
“What did you offer me, Kerri?”
“You know exactly what it sounded like I was offering...”
“And were you offering? Let’s get this straight before I get my hopes up, hmm?” His eyes flashed a hot blue invitation.
“Were you accepting?” she countered.
“I accepted a game of strip poker, oui .”
She drew a frustrated breath and stayed silent for a few moments.
“Well—no—I mean...”
“No?”
“Are you winding me up, Alex Beaufort?”
The corners of his mouth kicked up and Kerri felt her resolve slipping away. A warm unsettling glow shimmered below her belly button. And lower, a nice little tickle needed rubbing. She wriggled on the seat, wondering if that would help. No—worse if anything.
“I didn’t mean it to sound like that,” she flannelled. “I’ve never—um—offered to make love to a man. It’s not my thing.”
“Offering, or making love?”
“Neither, Alex! Neither is my thing...”
“Making love is ‘not your thing’?” His intense blue eyes danced over her with disbelief. “Kerri, I’m not a man who makes a habit of hauling a woman onto my lap so suddenly. And certainly not…er…letting my hands roam the way they did. But you provoked me most unreasonably. You sat there with your eyes challenging me, and those sexy red shoes making your legs look so long. You had love-making oozing from every pore.”
Oh my God—how can he think that? No-one’s ever said I’m the least bit sexy.
She swallowed hard and forced out a disbelieving, “Hah!”
His eyes held hers. “And you didn’t fake that orgasm. How can you claim you don’t like making love?”
She twisted her hands together.
“Well, normally I don’t like it as much as that. I mean...it’s never... Oh God, Alex—for some reason you turned me on, okay? It was nice.”
“And you’d like to do it again?”
“No.”
“No? So we’ll just have a game of strip poker then? Get each other undressed and sit in the sun with another cup of coffee, perhaps?”
Kerri knew she’d painted herself into a corner and had no idea how to escape. She abhorred being trapped, and this was even worse because she’d set the trap
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