eating around here."
“The restaurant's just ahead of us.” Josh motioned toward a building they were approaching. “Do you like Mexican food?"
“I like tacos,” Annette replied with a teasing sparkle in her glance.
“That's as bad as saying you like chop suey when someone asks if you enjoy Chinese food,” he chided, but his look was warm with shared amusement.
“Do you mean there is more to Mexican food than tacos, enchiladas and refried beans?” She pretended to be surprised by the idea.
“Shall we go in and find out?” he challenged.
“Let's,” Annette agreed. “I'm starving."
Mariachi music was playing in the background as a hostess led them to a table. The air was filled with a spicy blend of food smells that whetted Annette's already aroused appetite. Sitting down in one of the brightly colored chairs, she opened the menu and skimmed the list. She paused and glanced up at Josh.
“I think you'd better make some suggestions,” she murmured.
“Why don't you trust me to order for you?” he suggested instead.
Annette hesitated, then agreed with a qualification. “All right, but tell me what it is."
The glint in his dark eyes mocked her, but he made no direct comment. He began his choice with guacamole salad, then a platter of assorted entrées so Annette could sample a variety. “Including the requisite taco,” he informed her.
“At least I won't starve.” She smiled her acceptance of his decision.
The order Josh gave the waiter included a carafe of sangría. The glasses that accompanied the chilled Spanish wine contained a speared slice of orange fruit and a stemmed maraschino cherry, which added to the fruity zest of the wine.
The emptiness of her stomach caused Annette to eye the fruit garnish hungrily. Finally, she gave up any attempt to resist it and slid the wine-soaked orange slice off its decorative spear to nibble on its pulp.
As her teeth sank into its orange flesh, her glance strayed to Josh. The raw hunger in his look centered on her juice-moistened lips as if he longed to devour them. The sensation was decidedly unnerving. It shivered through her, awakening her slumbering needs. She set the orange rind aside, inwardly aroused and unsettled by his looks.
“I wish you wouldn't look at me that way,” she murmured.
“What way?” Thick masculine lashes were partially lowered to screen the intensity of his gaze, but they didn't lessen his interest.
“As if you were eating me with your eyes,” Annette replied, and twirled the cherry by its stem, drowning it in the wine.
“I'd like to take a bite out of you,” Josh admired with too much ease.
“Little nibbles are better,” she replied, fully aware they were engaged in thinly disguised sexual banter. She flirted with him to conceal the fact she was affected by it.
“What are you going to do with that cherry?” His low question tied a knot in her stomach as her fingers stopped spinning the cherry in the wine.
“Do you want it?” Her tone wasn't as sophisticated as she wanted it to sound.
“What do you think?” He held her gaze and she felt the slow uncoiling of her tension under his steady look.
“You can have it.” Holding the cherry by its stem, she handed it to him.
Instead of taking it, his fingers circled her wrist and guided her hand to his mouth so that she ended up feeding him the cherry. A thousand sensations ran through her system until she felt her toes curling in reaction, but nervousness wasn't one of her feelings.
The waiter approached the table to serve their meal and Josh released his hold on her wrist. Their conversation shifted to less suggestive topics, but the previous one wasn't forgotten. It lingered on the edge of her consciousness throughout dinner and afterward.
Arriving at the hotel, Josh parked the car in his reserved space and switched off the engine. When he stepped out of the car, Annette waited in the passenger seat until he had walked around and opened her door. She accepted
“The restaurant's just ahead of us.” Josh motioned toward a building they were approaching. “Do you like Mexican food?"
“I like tacos,” Annette replied with a teasing sparkle in her glance.
“That's as bad as saying you like chop suey when someone asks if you enjoy Chinese food,” he chided, but his look was warm with shared amusement.
“Do you mean there is more to Mexican food than tacos, enchiladas and refried beans?” She pretended to be surprised by the idea.
“Shall we go in and find out?” he challenged.
“Let's,” Annette agreed. “I'm starving."
Mariachi music was playing in the background as a hostess led them to a table. The air was filled with a spicy blend of food smells that whetted Annette's already aroused appetite. Sitting down in one of the brightly colored chairs, she opened the menu and skimmed the list. She paused and glanced up at Josh.
“I think you'd better make some suggestions,” she murmured.
“Why don't you trust me to order for you?” he suggested instead.
Annette hesitated, then agreed with a qualification. “All right, but tell me what it is."
The glint in his dark eyes mocked her, but he made no direct comment. He began his choice with guacamole salad, then a platter of assorted entrées so Annette could sample a variety. “Including the requisite taco,” he informed her.
“At least I won't starve.” She smiled her acceptance of his decision.
The order Josh gave the waiter included a carafe of sangría. The glasses that accompanied the chilled Spanish wine contained a speared slice of orange fruit and a stemmed maraschino cherry, which added to the fruity zest of the wine.
The emptiness of her stomach caused Annette to eye the fruit garnish hungrily. Finally, she gave up any attempt to resist it and slid the wine-soaked orange slice off its decorative spear to nibble on its pulp.
As her teeth sank into its orange flesh, her glance strayed to Josh. The raw hunger in his look centered on her juice-moistened lips as if he longed to devour them. The sensation was decidedly unnerving. It shivered through her, awakening her slumbering needs. She set the orange rind aside, inwardly aroused and unsettled by his looks.
“I wish you wouldn't look at me that way,” she murmured.
“What way?” Thick masculine lashes were partially lowered to screen the intensity of his gaze, but they didn't lessen his interest.
“As if you were eating me with your eyes,” Annette replied, and twirled the cherry by its stem, drowning it in the wine.
“I'd like to take a bite out of you,” Josh admired with too much ease.
“Little nibbles are better,” she replied, fully aware they were engaged in thinly disguised sexual banter. She flirted with him to conceal the fact she was affected by it.
“What are you going to do with that cherry?” His low question tied a knot in her stomach as her fingers stopped spinning the cherry in the wine.
“Do you want it?” Her tone wasn't as sophisticated as she wanted it to sound.
“What do you think?” He held her gaze and she felt the slow uncoiling of her tension under his steady look.
“You can have it.” Holding the cherry by its stem, she handed it to him.
Instead of taking it, his fingers circled her wrist and guided her hand to his mouth so that she ended up feeding him the cherry. A thousand sensations ran through her system until she felt her toes curling in reaction, but nervousness wasn't one of her feelings.
The waiter approached the table to serve their meal and Josh released his hold on her wrist. Their conversation shifted to less suggestive topics, but the previous one wasn't forgotten. It lingered on the edge of her consciousness throughout dinner and afterward.
Arriving at the hotel, Josh parked the car in his reserved space and switched off the engine. When he stepped out of the car, Annette waited in the passenger seat until he had walked around and opened her door. She accepted
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