The Player's Club: Lincoln by Cathy Yardley Page B

breath, and the smile started to fade. “Ah…now wait a second. I need to think this through.”
    “You need to…what? Are you kidding me?” She blinked at him.
    “Juliana, do you really want to do this?”
    “Uh, yes! ” she said, exasperated. “What, are you getting cold feet?”
    “We’ve got plenty of time to become lovers,” he said, kissing her, and easing a little of her frustrated incomprehension. “And I know you won’t believe me, but I really didn’t mean to let things get this out of hand. I just know that at some point, we are going to sleep together.”
    She took a deep breath, struggling to be as implacably calm as he was. “That does seem inevitable. Even though you make me nuts.”
    “Maybe because you make me nuts,” he said, with an absent kiss on her rib cage that had her smiling. “But I don’t just want to be…”
    When he paused, she studied him, surprised to find him almost blushing. “What?”
    “I don’t want to be a conquest, here.”
    Her mouth dropped open. Then she sat up. “First of all, what do you think I do? Sleep with any guy who gets my attention? And second of all, you’re the one who started with the kissing, pal, not me.”
    He stroked a finger over her collarbone, and she pulled away. Then he sighed. “ Conquest was the wrong word. Let me try this again—I don’t think I should be casual for you.” She still frowned at that distinction, so his frown mirrored hers as he added, “You sure as hell are not casual for me.”
    “What are you saying?” she asked with derision. “You’re in love with me?”
    He didn’t answer—only looked at her, with bone-deep intensity.
    “Oh, God.” She rubbed her face with her hands. “No, you’re not in love with me. You don’t even know me.”
    He tugged her hands away, and stared at her. “No, I’m not in love with you,” he said, sternly enough that she smiled. “I’m not one of those guys who falls in love at first sight and then turns into a nutcase. But I think I’d like the opportunity to try and fall in love with you and that means getting to know you better.”
    Was this the same guy who had just brought her to a blistering orgasm, not two seconds earlier? Her eyes narrowed.
    He wanted to know her better. Maybe that meant he just wanted to find out what her motivation was; what she was “up to,” especially with his precious Player’s Club.
    But could he really be that cold…and make her feel that hot?
    “All right,” she said. “We’ll go to dinner, and we’ll try to find out more about each other,” she said, slipping back into her own acting mode. She didn’t know if he was playing a game, but if he was, he’d find she was one hell of a competitor.
    “All right,” he echoed, then his gaze burned across her breasts, making the already tight nipples ache. “While I love what you’re wearing, I guess you’d better put something else on.”
    “Probably a good idea,” she said, going to her closet and throwing on a light, formfitting sweater. Then he escorted her out of her condo, with enough distance that she wasn’t able to touch him, but was close enough that she could feel him, like heat from a campfire.
    The problem was, now that they were this close, so to speak, her hormones were raging and she was wondering why things hadn’t progressed further than they had. She was still buzzing off his presence, worrying about how she’d keep her guard up. She’d been with men who had considered themselves skilled lovers; she’d been with skilled lovers who hadn’t really been interesting men. The fact that she suspected Lincoln was the complete package had her body thrumming with desire that was getting harder to tamp down.
    He took her hand; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d held hands with someone. He held hers up, kissing her knuckles as they walked out her lobby door. “Any place you’d…”
    There was a bright flash and the rapid gunfire sound of a camera. She