Page 9 of Impulse

He pulled off his helmet, did that hair sweep he’d pulled earlier, which drew attention to his dark-brown wavy hair, and pulled off his sunglasses.“I was enjoying the view.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks.Jillian laughed to cover her nervousness.“I must remember to use that the next time I lose a race.”

He chuckled, the sound rich and sexy.Nice.His steely gray eyes glittered with something that had her taking a step back before she caught herself.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it losing.More like choosing my battles.”He kept moving closer, bringing with him a masculine, woodsy scent and a large dose of sex appeal that hit all her senses at once.Her mind protested, but her body must have decided to disconnect because it greedily responded.

“Those were nice wheelies,” he added in a voice gone husky, removing his glove and offering his hand in greeting.

“Thank you.They were my victory wheelies,” she added.“Basic.Nose.Circle, but…” Her voice trailed off when he took her hand.Who knew something so simple would feel so intimate?

“You’d have to stop for the circle,” he finished.“Lex Fitzgerald,” he added and lifted her hand to his lips.

A delicious warmth invaded her body.If a different guy had pulled that move in broad daylight, it would have seemed corny.From him, it seemed natural.Maybe it was the ease with which he did it or the fact that his eyes darkened as though the physical connection affected him.Why was his name familiar?

“Have dinner with me,” the words rolled off his tongue like a prelude to something decadent.Her entire body hummed with appreciation.

“Yes,” Jillian heard herself say above the furious pounding of her heart, her voice a tad breathless.His lips curled with masculine satisfaction and she realized she’d agreed to something.“Uh, no.”

“You can’t take it back.You can choose where we’ll go,” he added.

Jillian laughed self-consciously and eased her hand from his.“Yeah, tempting, but the answer is still no.”

His eyebrows shot up.“No, you don’t want to choose?”

“No to food and eating.I can’t.”

“Of course, we can.”His hand came to rest on the seat of her bike, and for a moment, she stared at it with morbid fascination.She had sat there only minutes ago.Her traitorous mind imagined that large hand on… her ass.

Her mind just had to go there?Seriously?

When he patted the seat, her eyes flew to his.The grin on his face said he’d guessed what her crazy mind was creating.Guessed and found it amusing.

Jillian gave him a saucy grin.“Sorry, I don’t do Hollywood.”

His expression changed, going from amusement to concern in an instant.“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t date anyone in show business.”

“Why?”he shot back.

“They bore me, but it’s been nice meeting you, Lex Fitzgerald.”That name.She’d heard it somewhere.

“I’m not in show business.”He slipped his glove back on, eyes not leaving her face.“Now that we’ve cleared up that, when and where can I pick you up?”

Such arrogance was something she usually disliked in men, yet on him it was actually a turn on.Perhaps it was the look on his face that said something about her pleased him.Probably her blabbering.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Jillian said.“You are with the studio or you wouldn’t just waltz onto the field the way you did.Actors, extras, and studio execs are all not in my dating pool.”She shuddered, remembering the losers she’d dated the last five years.No imagination.Self-absorbed.Boring in and out of the bedroom.

Lex smiled as though pleased by her declaration or her delicate shudder.Warmth added blue to the depths of his eyes, which was interesting.

“Barbs is a family friend,” he said.“I brought her a message from my mother.”

Ah, that was where she’d heard the Fitzgerald name.Chris had mentioned an Estelle Fitzgerald bank-rolling the movie.Must be his mother, which meant he was the last person she wanted near her.He could never know about her nocturnal activities.Plus, his family owned Leeds, the makers of the Road King.She hoped he wasn’t easily offended.

Jillian picked up her helmet.“I hope I didn’t insult you when I mentioned problems with your bikes.”

Lex’s broad shoulders lifted under the leather jacket, a glint entering his eyes.“I can handle a few constructive criticisms, but I’d rather discuss yours over a meal.”