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Carys shook her head. “I’m ‘plant forward’ but I love meat,” she explained, feeling as if she were moving through a hazy, erotic dream.

Her body was throbbing, intensely aware of the man sitting across from her.

Every movement fascinated her. As he gripped the menu, her eyes lingered on his hands, wondering what it would feel like to have those hands cup her breasts.

His fingers were long, like a pianist’s.

How would it feel if the pad of his thumb brushed over her nipple?

What had he asked her? Oh, right! Food.

“What does ‘plant forward’ mean?” he asked. He looked genuinely interested and she didn’t understand why they were still here. Why didn’t he just toss the menus aside and put her on the table?

“Um…I tend to eat plant-based foods as much as possible. I do eat meat, but I aim for fruits, vegetables, and legumes most of the time.”

“That sounds interesting. When did you start doing that?”

She sighed and laid the menu down. Folding her hands in her lap, she tried to concentrate on the conversation.

“I tried to be a vegetarian during college. But I realized I was just eating cheese for my protein and knew that wasn’t healthy.

” She shrugged and took a deep breath, trying to stop wondering what it would be like if he kissed her.

She looked away, staring unseeingly out the window.

“I started researching nutrition and…” she shrugged. “Now, I just eat what seems delicious.”

“How about a steak for dinner? I know this restaurant serves delicious steaks.”

Carys shook her head. “Not tonight. I don’t think I could truly enjoy a steak just now.”

The heat in his eyes intensified and Carys shifted slightly in her seat. She didn’t want to eat. Her hunger was a distant memory now. She was nearly trembling with a need that was completely unfamiliar and she had no idea how to deal with it.

“Chicken then,” he decided.

Why was he still talking about food?

The waiter arrived and they both ordered chicken, but different dishes. Carys wasn’t exactly sure what she selected. In fact, she merely glanced at the menu options and ordered the first chicken dish that caught her eye.

“Tell me about yourself,” he urged.

“What do you want to know?” she asked. “I’m pretty boring, actually.”

“I doubt that. Where did you grow up?”

They discussed their past. She told him about growing up in the suburbs, playing soccer on the weekend and the piano lessons that she’d despised. He told her about growing up in Lativa. He’d played soccer too, when he’d gone off to university, but hadn’t ever learned to play a musical instrument.

She’d taken French in high school. Rafi spoke French, Spanish, Arabic, and Mandarin fluently.

Their meal arrived and Carys might as well have been eating sawdust. She had no idea what was on her plate since her eyes continuously drifted to his.

“Should we get out of here?” he asked.

Carys froze, staring into his eyes. She saw the promise there and was startled when she found herself nodding. “Yes. Please!”

He lifted his hand and the waiter appeared.

“We need the check.” Then Rafi shook his head and stood up.

“You know what? Never mind.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out several hundred dollars, which he handed to the wide-eyed waiter.

“This should cover it.” Then he took Carys’s hand, and they left the restaurant, nearly running.

The SUV was already waiting at the curb, the back door open and waiting for them.

Carys had no idea where they were going because Rafi held her hand, his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. She’d never realized that her pulse point could be such an erogenous zone, but at the first pass of his thumb, she gasped.

She wanted to leap onto his lap, wrap her arms around his neck, and kiss him.

But the driver and the guard were the front seat.

So instead, she sat there, staring up at him, feeling her heart pound against her ribs as other places throbbed with urgent need.

It was almost embarrassing how turned on she felt.

“We’re here,” Rafi rasped. Carys had no idea where “here” was, nor did she care.

He slid out of the seat, still holding her hand.

She slid with him, barely remembering to grab her tote bag as she stood up.

She slung it over her shoulder as she followed him into an unfamiliar building.

A part of her had a moment’s hesitation since she was following a man she barely knew, into a strange building, in a part of the city she wasn’t familiar with, but Rafi led her into a private elevator, and directly into his arms. Since the two men followed them into the elevator, Carys tensed, wanting so badly to kiss him but not wanting their first kiss to have an audience.

She gripped his upper arms tightly as she stared into his eyes, his hands pulling her just as tightly against his body.

That’s when she noticed his erection throbbing against her stomach as her knees went weak.

This wasn’t the tepid warmth that she’d felt when other men had touched or kissed her. This was a molten, white-hot, painful level of need. Carys was on the edge of insanity and if he didn’t kiss her soon, she might scream.

Thankfully, the elevator doors opened and the men stepped out first. Carys was oblivious to everything. Her whole focus was on Rafi.

“In here,” he hissed, practically pulling her through a door…

and straight into his arms again. Carys didn’t hesitate.

She was exactly where her body screamed to be.

When she felt his hands on her back, pulling her closer, she whimpered and went up on her toes, reaching up to pull his head down to her.

And then…finally…he kissed her. Carys’s head spun with desire as he nipped at her lower lip, demanding that she open for him, and when she did, the experience was shocking!

Someone kept whimpering and she tried to ignore it, focusing on touching him, shoving his clothes out of the way so that she could touch his bare skin.

There were ripping sounds. Then she felt him pick her up.

Carys wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing her way down his throat.

She heard a door close again, then he set her on her feet and began stripping off her clothes.