Page 4 of A Touch of Crimson
“Orange County is going to be home. I’m relocating for a job.” She wasn’t going to get as detailed as naming a city. She knew how to protect herself if she had to, but she didn’t want to buy any more trouble than she already had.
“That’s a big move. One side of the country to the other.”
“It was time for a change.”
His mouth curved in a half smile. “Have dinner with me.”
The velvety resonance of his voice further engaged her interest. He was charismatic and magnetic, two qualities that made short-term relationships memorable.
She accepted the bag and soda the clerk handed to her. “You get right to the point. I like that.”
The calling of their flight number drew her attention back to the gate. A short delay was announced, causing the waiting passengers to shift restlessly. Adrian never took his eyes from her.
He gestured to the row of chairs near where he’d been pacing. “We have time to get to know each other.”
Lindsay walked with him over to the seating area. She canvassed the vicinity again, taking brief note of the numerous women following Adrian with their gazes. The sense of him being a leashed tempest was no longer so overwhelming, while outside the rain had abated to a heavy drizzle. The correlation was intriguing.
Her ferocious reaction to Adrian Mitchell and his unique ability to set off her inner weather radar cemented her decision to get closer to him. Anomalies in her life always bore greater investigation.
He waited until she was settled into a seat, then asked, “Do you have friends picking you up? Family?”
No one was meeting her. She had a shuttle reserved to take her to the hotel where she’d be staying until she found a suitable apartment. “It’s not wise to share that sort of information with a stranger.”
“So let me address the risk.” He shifted with sleek fluidity, reaching into his back pocket to grab his billfold. Withdrawing a business card, he held it out to her. “Call whoever is expecting you. Tell them who I am and how to reach me.”
“You’re determined.” And also used to giving commands. She didn’t mind. She had a strong personality and needed the same in return, or she took the lead. Docile men were fine in certain situations, but not in her personal life.
“I am,” he agreed, unabashed.
Lindsay reached for the card. His fingers touched hers, and electricity raced up her arm.
His nostrils flared. He caught her hand; his fingertips teased her palm. He could have been stroking between her legs, given how aroused she became from that simple touch. He watched her with an almost tangible sexual heat, dark and intense. As if he knew what her hot buttons were…or was set on figuring them out.
“I can tell you’re going to be trouble,” she murmured, tightening her grip to still his questing fingers.
“Dinner. Conversation. I promise to behave.”
Holding him captive, she reached for his business card with her other hand. Her blood was thrumming through her veins, roused by the excitement of such an immediate, unruly attraction. “Mitchell Aeronautics,” she read. “But you’re flying commercial?”
“I had other plans.” His tone was wry. “But my pilot dropped out unexpectedly.”
His pilot. Her mouth curved. “Don’t you hate when that happens?”
“Usually… Then you came along.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Use mine so whoever you call will have that number, too.”
Lindsay reluctantly released him and accepted the phone, even though she had her own. Setting her soda on the worn carpet, she stood. Adrian rose with her. He was affluent, elegant, mannered, solicitous, and drop-dead gorgeous. Yet as polished as he was, there remained a dangerous edge to him that titillated a woman’s basest instincts. Maybe the crowded terminal was provoking her sharp senses. Or maybe they just had a combustible sexual compatibility. Regardless, she wasn’t complaining.
Leaving her pretzel bag on the chair, she moved a few feet away and dialed the number to her father’s auto shop. While she was occupied, Adrian walked to the gate counter.
“Linds. You’re there already?”
She was startled by the abrupt greeting. “How did you know it was me?”
“Caller ID. It shows a 714 area code.”
“I’m on my layover in Phoenix, using someone else’s phone.”
“What’s the matter with yours? And why are you still in Phoenix?” A single parent for twenty years, Eddie Gibson had always been overprotective, which wasn’t surprising considering the horrific manner of Regina Gibson’s death.
