“You really are something…”
Elena Hayes stammered, her beautiful eyes widening as the flush of embarrassment and annoyance at the corners of her eyes made her expression even more vivid.
“How can you be like this?”
Richard Sterling leaned back in his chair. Beneath the warm, intimate lighting of the private dining room, his deep-set features looked even more striking.
He calmly picked up his napkin, his dark eyes settling on her with an intensity that seemed almost tangible.
Knowing exactly what she meant, he deliberately asked, “Like what?”
Elena was irritated by how completely unbothered he looked, as though nothing had happened at all.
She bit her lower lip. She had wanted to throw a few sharp words at him, but the moment she met those deep, unreadable black eyes, some of her confidence mysteriously slipped away.
In the end, all she could manage was a soft mutter.
“…Bad guy.”
The complaint had no real bite to it. If anything, it sounded more like a slightly spoiled, aggrieved protest.
To Richard, her complaint had the opposite effect. It was almost endearing, like a soft little hook tugging lightly at his heart.
“That’s what you call being a bad guy?”
Richard chuckled softly, amusement unmistakable in his deep voice.
“Miss Hayes, if I were really a bad guy, you wouldn’t be sitting there eating ice cream right now.”
Elena pressed her lips together.
“Then what would I be doing?”
“Perhaps…”
Richard deliberately let the word trail off, his gaze lingering on her full, slightly flushed lips.
“Eating something else?”
Elena: “…”
The look in his eyes seemed almost capable of stripping away every bit of her composure.
Her breath caught, and the heat in her face instantly spread to her ears.
She had been trying to tease him in the first place. Getting a reaction like this should have been exactly what she wanted.
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And yet, now that he was actually playing along, she was starting to realize she might not be able to handle it.
Annoyed that she was being pushed completely onto the defensive, Elena decided she wasn’t going to let him have all the fun.
Acting on impulse, she stretched one foot beneath the wide dining table and lightly tapped his lower leg with the toe of her white sneaker.
She barely used any force.
Through the expensive, perfectly tailored fabric of his suit trousers, it was hardly even a kick. It felt more like a playful little protest.
The toe of her sneaker brushed against his trouser leg, producing the faintest sound of fabric against fabric.
She could feel that she’d touched his solid lower leg, but she pulled away almost immediately. There was no way it could have hurt him.
At least—
Not if he wasn’t a germaphobe.
And judging from what had just happened, he clearly wasn’t.
Still, once she remembered exactly who she’d just kicked, Elena’s heart jumped into her throat.
The private dining room was quiet enough that the soft sound of the cello was almost the only thing she could hear.
She cautiously looked up, trying to read Richard’s expression.
She wasn’t sure how the powerful Chairman of the Sterling Consortium would react to being treated so casually.
He didn’t.
Not even slightly.
Richard simply lifted his glass and took an elegant sip of ice water, his Adam’s apple moving slowly as he swallowed.
Elena secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
For a moment, she thought he’d simply ignored it.
She was even beginning to feel a little disappointed—
Then, beneath the tablecloth, a warm, solid leg suddenly moved toward hers, invading her space without warning.
Elena was wearing straight-leg, washed-blue jeans that evening. The cuffs were rolled up slightly at the ankles, leaving a narrow strip of pale skin exposed.
Richard subtly shifted his position.
His polished shoe came to rest against the side of hers.
Then their ankles touched.
The slightly rough texture of his expensive wool-blend trousers carried an intense warmth that seemed almost startling at such close range.
The fabric brushed against the sensitive skin along the inside of her ankle.
“Mm…”
Elena shuddered as though an electric current had passed through her.
She nearly lost her grip on the glass in her hand, and a few drops of water splashed onto the back of her hand, the sudden coolness making her flinch.
Richard’s movement was unhurried, carrying a quiet sense of control that made it difficult for her to breathe normally.
The edge of his trouser leg brushed higher along her ankle, occasionally grazing the small patch of bare skin above it.
The sensation traveled slowly up her calf before shooting straight through her spine.
Elena’s legs suddenly felt weak.
Even her toes curled instinctively inside her sneakers.
She bit her lip, her eyes glistening, but she refused to back down.
She wanted to fight back.
So, forcing herself to ignore the weakness spreading through her legs, she cautiously lifted her foot again.
This time, she moved it upward along the side of his suit trousers, deliberately brushing against the firm muscle of his lower leg.
She was trying to take back at least a little of the initiative.
But—
The moment her soft ankle made contact with the taut muscle of his calf, Richard’s previously relaxed legs suddenly closed inward with startling precision.
“Ah…”
A tiny gasp escaped Elena before she could stop it.
Her foot, along with part of her slender lower leg, was caught between his strong legs.
The space beneath the table suddenly felt impossibly cramped and warm.
Richard’s legs held hers firmly in place. He wasn’t using enough force to hurt her, but she couldn’t pull free.
The rough texture of his suit trousers and the heat of his body came through the thin denim of her jeans.
She could even feel the subtle tightening of his muscles whenever he applied the slightest pressure.
Elena felt as though half her body were melting under that overwhelming, provocative pressure.
A faint ache spread through her lower back.
She looked up, suddenly uncertain, with a hint of silent pleading in her eyes.
Above the table, Richard still looked exactly the same.
He remained the picture of a composed, impeccably dressed executive.
One hand rested casually on the tabletop, his index finger tapping lightly against the side of his glass.
His dark eyes remained fixed calmly on her.
If not for what was happening beneath the table—
Who would ever imagine that the powerful man sitting so calmly in one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants was teasing the woman across from him with such unmistakable tension?
“I thought you were going to keep asking me…”
Richard looked at the redness around her eyes and the way her breathing had quickened, the faint rise and fall of her chest making it obvious just how flustered she was.
A smile tugged at his lips.
He leaned slightly closer, narrowing the distance between them.
His voice was a little rougher than before, carrying the unmistakable satisfaction of someone who knew he’d gotten the upper hand.
“For example, what exactly I meant when I said you could eat something else.”
As the last word left his lips, his legs tightened slightly beneath the table.
His long, powerful calves pressed inward, creating a firm pressure around hers.
It wasn’t painful, but she was held securely in place, unable to move freely.
The repeated brush of fabric against skin created faint, almost imperceptible sounds beneath the table.
Elena’s calf was gently compressed between his legs, the pressure firm but controlled, as though he were silently reminding her who had taken control of the situation.
Her eyes instantly grew hazy with moisture.
The hidden warmth beneath the table seemed to overwhelm her all at once.
Her breathing became quick and shallow, and her chest rose and fell more noticeably.