Rush

arms.
    The man worked out. There was no other explanation for how a guy who spent so much
     time in an office could look so damn good and be so stacked.
    She suddenly felt overdressed. She’d put on a simple navy blue dress that clipped
     the tops of her knees and bared the lower expanse of her legs. The heels she’d chosen
     gave her much-needed height to put her on a more even level with Gabe, but even then
     she felt small standing in front of him.
    He was larger-than-life, filling the room, even in the faded jeans and T-shirt. His
     presence was indomitable. The way he looked at her made her feel branded.
    His lazy gaze drifted over her, warming her skin as if he’d actually touched her.
     When he reached her eyes, he smiled and then simply held out his hand.
    She closed the remaining distance between them and slipped her palm over his. He circled
     her fingers and squeezed before pulling her into a breathless kiss. He sipped at her
     lips and then grazed them with his teeth, nipping with just enough force so they tingled.
     Then he licked over the seam of her mouth, coaxing until she opened again and allowed
     him entrance.
    “I arranged dinner for us. I hope you’re hungry,” he said in a husky voice.
    “Starving,” she admitted.
    He frowned. “Did you not eat today?”
    “I had some orange juice. Didn’t really feel like eating.”
    She didn’t mention the fact that she was hungover, had little sleep, and that the
     thought of food until now had made her want to hurl.
    He guided her toward the elegant dining room table that stood in front of a huge picture
     window overlooking Manhattan. There was a dazzling array of lights from the surrounding
     buildings that were silhouetted against the sky at dusk.
    “You’re not still nervous, are you?” he asked as he seated her.
    She laughed. “I’m in uncharted waters, Gabe. You have to know that.”
    He surprised her by pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, and then he moved away.
     A moment later, he returned carrying two plates. He set a delicious-smelling steak
     in front of her. It was so tantalizing that her stomach instantly growled.
    He frowned again. “No more skipping meals, Mia.”
    She nodded and then waited as he returned to the kitchen again. This time he came
     back bearing a bottle of wine. He sat across from her and then filled both their glasses.
    “I wasn’t sure of your likes and dislikes when it comes to food. We’ll certainly have
     time to go over that and I’ll learn your preferences. But I figured I couldn’t go
     wrong with a filet.”
    “No, not at all,” she said. “A good steak cures most anything.”
    “I couldn’t agree more.”
    She dug into her meal, watching Gabe from underneath her eyelashes. There were a million
     questions buzzing around in her head, but she didn’t want to inundate him. As he had
     said, they had plenty of time to learn one another. Most people waited a little further
     into that learning curve before jumping into a sexual relationship, but she supposed
     Gabe was well used to doing things his own way, and damn convention. Besides, it wasn’t
     as though they were complete strangers. Gabe had been a fixture—albeit a distant one—in
     her life for years.
    The silence stretched between them. She could feel his gaze on her, knew he watched
     her much as she watched him. Almost like two wary opponents studying one another before
     engaging in battle. Only Gabe didn’t look as uncertain and awkward as she felt. He
     looked confident. Like a predator closing in on his prey.
    Butterflies took wing in her belly, and lower, until she squeezed her thighs together
     in an effort to assuage the ache.
    “You aren’t eating,” Gabe pointed out.
    She stared down at her plate, realizing she’d paused, fork stillin hand, her steak only half eaten. She set it down and then calmly fixed her gaze
     on Gabe.
    “This is nerve-wracking, Gabe. This is all new to me. I’ve never been in a situation
     like this. I’m unsure of how to act. What to say. What not to say. Or whether to say
     anything at all! You sit across from me staring at me like I’m dessert, and I have
     no idea if this is a simple dinner. A get-comfortable session. Help me out here because
     I’m floundering.”
    A half smile curved his lips upward. Amusement flared in his eyes. “Mia, darling,
     you
are
dessert.”
    Her breath stuttered over clumsy lips as she read the hunger in his eyes that had
     nothing to do with the