Page 11 of Bare
It wouldn’t be an impromptu date. It would be a well-orchestrated military operation.
She got it. Sage loved her. Sage wanted her safe. She was the best sister anyone could ask for. Sage had sacrificed so much for her, even leaving Juilliard and dancing in a gentlemen’s club to keep them both safe. But truth be told, sometimes her sister’s love, no matter how deep, sincere, and well-intended, was suffocating. Rosemary was done with being smothered and confined.
She’d given up so much freedom during her cancer treatments. She did exactly what the doctors told her. She spent years barely leaving the house. She ate what they said to eat, took pills when they said to take them, slept the exact number of hours they demanded, and avoided doing anything fun and exciting for fear of germs. She’d lived a life dictated by others.
But not anymore.
Since starting with Pannetone & Associates, she’d turned over a new leaf. She made her own choices based on whatshewanted. She stopped at her favorite coffee shop every day on her way to work for a blueberry muffin and cinnamon latte. Damn the caffeine and damn the carbs.
She went to hot yoga and the rock-climbing gym—previously forbidden places the doctors had labeled “germ factories.” On weekends, she went to the art museum, concerts, and crystal shops. She purchased fresh vegetables in the Italian market, never worrying about getting overtired or being in a crowd.
She could do it all now without considering the impact on a battered, immuno-compromised body because, thanks to the experimental medicine that had saved her life, she was finally healthy and strong. She was twenty-seven years old and had barely scratched the surface of what life had to offer. If an attractive, charming man wanted to take her out for dinner, she would damn well go if she wanted to, regardless of what her sister would think.
“But in your case, I’ll make an exception,” she finally answered.
His smile broadened, showing straight, white teeth. “Great! With the way you hesitated, I thought you were going to turn me down.”
“I considered it, but then I reminded myself I’m supposed to be living life adventurously.”
“Living life adventurously. I like the sound of that. I could use a little adventure.”
There was that touch of an accent again, like Alexander Skarsgård in thatLegend of Tarzanmovie Sage had loved when they were teenagers.
Despite the chill in the air, warmth curled through Rosemary’s stomach. “Maybe we can help each other. But foodfirst. In a public place. I may be embracing adventure, but I’m going to be smart about it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He straightened his back and gave her a sharp salute. Really sharp. Like it was a reflex. “Any suggestions on where we should go?”
She crouched down, her briefcase banging against her leg, and extended her hand slowly so Aleksei’s dog could sniff and lick it. The dog’s nose was cold, and her tongue was wet and rough on Rosemary’s fingers. She shifted her hands to pet the thick, soft, brown and white fur at the dog’s neck as she said, “We need to go somewhere pet-friendly. Right, girl?”
Aleksei’s large hand encircled her arm, his grip strong yet gentle, as he helped her stand back up. “Her name’s Jaka. I was so focused on you, I almost forgot she was with me.”
She dropped her gaze to her navy pumps. She’d been so flustered by her encounter with Lily that she’d forgotten to change into her sneakers. The pavement was chilling her feet through the thin soles. Aleksei’s words made that same cold snake into her belly, dimming the glow of their encounter.
“Don’t do that,” she said.
“Do what?” he asked.
“The fake flattery. You don’t need to use it. I already said I would go to dinner with you.”
He moved closer. Dark gray leather sneakers with gray laces and white soles appeared in front of her own shoes. One firm, rough-skinned finger slid under her chin and eased her head slowly upward. The sneakers turned into dark wash jeans, then a black zip-front jacket, then a chiseled jawline with a sprinkling of stubble, full lips, a strong straight nose, and finally, intense, gray-blue eyes. Eyes like the sky on the cusp of a storm.
He lowered his head.
She smelled mint and fresh pine.
Warm breath brushed her ear. “I don’t use fake flattery. It’s not my style.”
And just like that, the cold was gone, replaced by a sharp, intense, poker-hot heat racing up her thighs.
She stepped aside, allowing the evening breeze to cool her burning body. “I know a place we can go. A place we can go to eat. To eat dinner. A place to go eat dinner.”
Aleksei’s smile turned wolfish.
“What else would we eat?”
* * *
The white strands in Rosemary’s arrow-straight hair looked like flames in the red and yellow light of the heat lamps and decorative string lights on the small patio. Something about the way the color reflected the light nipped at the edges of his mind.
