Page 19 of Taking A Chance
In short. I bottle it.
Why? Because I’m scared shitless that history will repeat itself. That I’ll end up on what I think is the road to happiness, only to find that it leads me to an emotional nightmare. Again.
A knock on the door brings me out of my depressing train of thought. Still not dressed, I grab the bathrobe and pull it around me. When I open the door, I find Cade.
What can I say?
Man in a suit.
Cut perfectly to honour his physique and a crisp white shirt open at the neck. He has a body to die for and a face that you’d unashamedly want to lick.
Girl down!
“You’re late.” The way his eyes slowly move down my body, his gaze so intense, has me checking that I haven’t flipped, and I do have the robe on. He makes me feel naked. Do I want to be naked?
“I’m sorry. Blame Kat. Her interrogation is very thorough, to say the least. By the way, your watch and cufflinks are on the bedside cabinet.”
“Ah!” Cade walks over and picks them up. “That explains why you got the interrogation. Sorry. It can’t have been that bad, surely?”
“She was one step away from the thumbscrews. So, forgive me if I ruined your bad boy reputation by telling her you had been nothing but the perfect gentleman.”
“Damn,” he laughs. “I think you better get dressed before I do something that proves that I’m not always a gentleman. I’m guessing that under that robe you’re naked and that is too much of a temptation.”
I grab the first dress I can lay my hands on, quickly adding the underwear that I’d already chosen, thankfully one with multi-straps, and scoot into the bathroom to dress.
I make it quick, well as quick as I can, but when trying to make the strap of the bra go around my neck, it won’t go long enough. I end up with my chin to my chest, making it look like I’m only interested in my own cleavage. Decision made; I go for the strapless option. Braless is not even in the equation, as the fabric of the dress is the type that would mould to your nipples at the first sign of a breeze. The black halter neck dress is fitted at the top, but then flares out from the waist and, although quite plain, the neckline gives it a 1950s vibe. I fluff my hair from underneath, then smooth down the top. A coat of red lippy and I’m ready.
Stepping back into the room, the swish of the door has Cade looking up from his mobile phone that is firmly in his hand.
He doesn’t say a word, only slips his phone into his pocket, and walks towards me with an air of sheer determination. The heat of his gaze, as it sweeps across my body, has my heart racing. When he stands before me, the intensity in his eyes has me catching my breath.
“You are stunning,” he murmurs, as he traces his index finger across my jaw line. I can’t control the shiver that runs through me from his touch, nor the pounding pulse that beats between my legs. I’m not sure if the quaking of my body is because of my arousal or the triggering of my fears.
When his gaze falls to my lips, I’m convinced he’s going to kiss me, but I’m hit with a bout of disappointment when he takes a step back.
“I think we better go.”
“I’m sorry, are we going to be late for a reservation?” I say, a little breathless.
“A little, but I’m more concerned that if we don’t go now, we might not get there at all.”
“Oh, right, let me get my shoes and bag.” Tonight, already has me shitting myself. If I’m going to get a pair of balls, rather than grow a pair, I need some alcoholic assistance.
Hell, this woman is gorgeous. The way her dress moulds to her upper body does everything to showcase her tits and slender waist. The flare of the skirt does two things. It emphasises her perfect hour-glass figure and has me imagining what the underwear, I saw her snatch up earlier, would look like on her glorious body.
I was so damn close to kissing her, but when I saw something in her eyes that bordered on fear, I backed off. Something has her spooked.
The car I’ve arranged to drive us to the restaurant waits for us as we step outside the hotel. The journey isn’t long, and the conversation flows. However, the temptation of being so close to her in such a confined space is torture. But my determination not to fuck this up is enough to keep me in control.
The restaurant is small, intimate and expensive, but the food is to die for and worth every dollar. Spending the evening with Petra is worth a million dollars.
We eat, we drink and we laugh a lot. It’s easy and comfortable. Although I’m only just getting to know her, it’s so relaxed, it’s like I’ve known her for years. I find myself wanting to know everything about her.
When the server delivers the check, disappointment hits me, as I realise that the night is nearly over.
On our return to the hotel, I declare that one last drink in the hotel bar is a must and thankfully; she agrees. I don’t want today to end, but when I notice her trying to stifle a yawn, I know that It’s pure selfishness on my part.
“On second thoughts, why don’t we skip that drink, you look beat.”