Page 18 of Brant
She was wearing the necklace he had given her, the diamond nestled cozily between her cleavage. Slipping on the matching diamond earrings, she selected a black cashmere coat and took up a beaded green and black purse.
"Well, here goes nothing," she muttered as she left the room.
At the foot of the stairs, Brant was deciding whether or not to go and knock on her door. He had taken his shower, gotten dressed, and come downstairs to make some phone calls, and she was still not down yet. In his vast experience with the opposite sex, it took hours for them to decide what to wear, and when that was done, it took even longer for them to slap on makeup and all the other necessary things they needed to face the outside world.
He turned toward the stairs with the intention of reminding her of the time when he stopped short, the breath strangled somewhere deep inside his throat. She was floating down the stairs, one hand sliding along the banister, and she stopped his breath. The dress swirled around her in a cloud of chiffon, and he could smell her exotic perfume from where he was standing.
He was aware that he was staring, but it was as if his eyes were glued to the vision coming toward him. When she smiled, dimples peeking out, teeth white against the glossiness of her lips, he managed to clear the blockage from his throat.
"What do you think?" She stood in front of him, head tipped up to meet his eyes.
"Think?"
"The dress. Is it too much?"
Dragging his eyes from her lips, he swept a glance over her bosom and felt his loins tightening. Forcing himself to travel the length of her body, he lifted his head to her face and felt the gut punch of lust ramming into him full force.
"Brant?"
"What?" He felt as if he was sleepwalking.
"The dress?"
"What- Oh-" Shaking his head, he tried to compose himself. "It's, er, it's lovely."
She handed him her jacket and hid a smile as she turned so he could help her on with it.
"So, it's not too much?"
He slid the jacket over her shoulders, careful not to touch the bare skin.
"No." He had to clear his throat again. "We're going to be late."
Her scent engulfed him. As soon as he sat behind the wheel after opening her door and closing it behind her, that was what assailed his nostrils. Her scent. He dared not look at her, even though he was dying to.
She was beautiful! Christ! What the hell was he supposed to do? This was just an arrangement. Plain and simple. And he was going to have to stick to it.
"It's so lovely out."
Her cultured voice intruded on his thoughts and forced him to turn his head in her direction.
"Pardon?"
"The snow on the hedges, the clearness of the night, it's all so lovely," she said with a sigh, leaning back against the supple leather of her seat. "This is a different vehicle from the one you drove earlier."
"Yes." His hands tightened on the wheel, and he had to will himself not to reach out to touch her cheek. "We carry high-end vehicles, top-of-the-line and state-of-the-art." He called out a command, and music swelled the interior, causing her eyes to go wide. "Voice command." He flashed her a grin. "It also drives itself. Want to see?"
"No." She shook her head with a breathless laugh. "I'm not that advanced yet. I don't like the idea of a computer being the driver. I keep watching these movies where the app or whatever goes crazy and takes over the vehicle, leaving the passengers trapped inside and speeding off a cliff."
He slid her a startled look as he called for the music to cease.
"What movie is that?"
She shrugged. "Some horror movie I watched some time ago. Suffice it to say that after that, when I got behind the wheel of my vehicle, it took me a minute to actually start the car. That lasted a week."
"A horror movie, huh? I thought you were mostly into classics."
"Sometimes I deviate. Oh, look!" He almost slammed on the brakes as she rolled her window down.
