Write It Up!: Rapid Transit / The Ex Factor / Brewing Up Trouble

He nodded. “Must cost a fortune in cab fare.”

“It’s okay. Here in my world, I’m independently wealthy.”

He laughed at that. Then, before he could stop himself, he heard himself say, “I really like you, Julia Miles.”

She seemed surprised at hearing his admission. Maybe even as surprised as Daniel was to have uttered it. “I like you, too, Daniel Taggart. You’re—” But she halted before completing the remark.

“I’m what?” he asked.

She seemed to give that some thought before answering. “Different,” she told him.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “Different from what? Other guys? Serial killers? Tropical fruit? Waterfowl? What?”

“Just different,” she said with a laugh. “From other guys and tropical fruit. You’re just fun to be with.”

“And that makes me different from other guys and tropical fruit.”

She nodded. “Yeah. It makes you pretty wonderful.”

Daniel thought she was pretty wonderful, too, but he wasn’t ready to reveal that to her. Not yet. Bad enough he’d told her he liked her. He honestly didn’t say things like that to women. Especially not after having met them barely twenty-four hours before. Hell, how could you even know if you liked someone in that short amount of time?

Strangely, though, he did know it about Julia. He wasn’t sure how. And there was something else he knew, too. He knew he wanted to kiss her. Badly. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it.

Which was nuts, because Daniel never second-guessed himself with women. If he wanted to kiss one, he kissed her. Something about Julia, though, made him hesitate. He wanted to make sure he did it right the first time. Because he wanted there to be a second time. And a third. And a fourth.

Don’t think about it, he told himself. Just do it.

But all he managed was to lift a hand to her face, to cup her cheek in his palm and hold her gaze intently with his. Julia didn’t seem surprised by his touch, and in fact lifted her hand, too, toward his face. She skimmed her fingers lightly along the line of his jaw, then down to the back of his neck. His heart hammered harder as her fingers wandered into his hair, fondling the shorter strands at his nape, sparking something hot and frantic deep inside him. Then she hesitated for a moment, her fingers stilling against his skin as if she were trying to decide if she really wanted to do whatever she was thinking about doing.

Daniel held his breath in anticipation, then slowly released it when she moved forward to rest her forehead against his. Her breath stirred the fine hairs at his temple and warmed his face, and her heat and her fragrance surrounded him.

Her mouth was scarcely an inch from his own now, her lips parted slightly in an unmistakable invitation. As if she couldn’t quite bring herself to be the one to kiss him, but very much wished he would kiss her. So Daniel closed what little distance still remained between them, slanting his mouth over hers. She gasped softly in surprise and stiffened for a brief moment, as if she honestly hadn’t thought he would kiss her. Then, just as quickly, she melted into him, tunneling the fingers of both hands through his hair, kissing him with equal fire, equal need, equal hunger.

Daniel bit back a groan and cupped the crown of her head in his palm, dropping his other hand to curve his fingers over her shoulder. As they warred over possession of the kiss, Julia pushed her body closer to his, and his hand drifted lower, down along her arm, over her rib cage, her waist, her hip, then back up again. As he did, he pulled her closer still, devouring her even more voraciously. When she raked his lower lip softly with her teeth, he drove his tongue into her mouth, then groaned as she sucked him in deeper still.

Something dark and explosive shattered inside him, and, his mouth never leaving hers, he looped both arms around her waist and tugged her onto his lap. He continued to kiss her as he reached for the barrette at the back of her head and unclipped it, relishing the sensation of soft silk spilling over his hand.

Julia uttered a hushed little whimper in response, then shifted in his lap, roping both arms around his neck. Daniel dropped one hand to her hip, splaying his fingers wide over the denim, opening the other over the small of her back. She felt so good against him, her body fitting so perfectly against his own. She was soft in all the places he was hard, curved where he was angled. She was all the things he wasn’t, and somehow that made him want her all the more.

For a long time, they only held each other, kissed each other, enjoyed each other, until Daniel couldn’t tolerate not knowing more of her. Slowly, tentatively, he pushed the hand on her hip higher, over her waist, along her rib cage, until he encountered the lower curve of her breast, cradling it in the deep V of his thumb and forefinger. Julia sighed at the contact but didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned in closer, deepening their kiss. So Daniel inched his fingers higher, covering her breast completely with his hand.

The sound she uttered then was wholly erotic, sparking heat deep inside him where he’d never felt it before. She moved in his lap, her bottom rubbing against him, stirring his erection to completion in one swift maneuver. As he gently kneaded her breast, loving how it filled his palm so perfectly, he moved the hand on her back lower. He tugged at her shirt until it was free of her jeans, then dipped his fingers beneath it to open them again, this time over hot, naked skin.

Too much, too soon, he thought the moment their bare flesh made contact. It was a realization completely out of character for him. To Daniel, there was never enough when it came to sex, and it was never too soon to have it. So it was even more out of character when he, and not Julia, ended the kiss. But, suddenly, he jerked his mouth from hers, pulling back to look her squarely in the eye.

Gasping for breath and groping for coherent thought, he somehow managed to ask her, “What are you doing for breakfast tomorrow?”

She leaned in again, touching her forehead to his the way she had before, a gesture that was sweet and affectionate and should have had him running for his life in the opposite direction. Instead, it made him want to kiss her again.

“Daniel,” she said, pulling his name out on a long groan. “I know this is going to make me sound like a tease considering what we’re doing. But I don’t think I’m ready to—”

He moved his hand to cover her lips, halting her objection before she could utter it. “I’m not asking to spend the night,” he said.

And strangely, he realized that was true. Oh, all right, half true. If she had invited him into her bedroom right now, he would, without question, have followed her. But the knowledge that this evening wasn’t going to end in sex—and that he was the one who’d put a stop to things—didn’t bother him the way it should have. The way it would have, had Julia been anyone else. He was satisfied enough—for now—just to have been able to spend time with her. To have held her. Kissed her. Touched her bare flesh, if only for an instant. For some reason, he didn’t want to know any more than that tonight.

“I just meant,” he said, “if you’re not busy tomorrow, do you want to meet for breakfast somewhere?”

Did he only imagine the look of disappointment that clouded her features for a moment? he wondered. Must have, he quickly decided. Because she was the one who’d said she wasn’t ready to go any further. Even if Daniel was beginning to suspect the same was true of himself.

“I’d love to meet for breakfast,” she said. “Just tell me where and when to be there. But Daniel,” she added with a smile that was almost shy. “You don’t have to leave just yet, do you?”

He grinned, withdrew his hand from beneath her shirt and awkwardly tucked it back into her jeans. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissed her once, twice, three times, four, and told her, “No. Of course not. We can still sit here and…chat…for a while.” Then he covered her mouth with his again.

And again. And again. And again…

CHAPTER FIVE

“SO. HOW’S THE SPEED-DATING story coming?”

Tess Truesdale asked the question just as Julia was enjoying a forkful of her carryout Waldorf salad, so she had to spend a few minutes chewing before she could reply. After all, dribbled lettuce and grapes would in no way complement her pale blue, pleated, beribboned miniskirt and cropped, ribbon-tied blazer of the same color. Tess had also lightened up today and was dressed in a clingy ivory sheath of pure silk, accessorized by a clunky bronze necklace that could have come from the Egyptian room at the British Museum—and, knowing Tess, it probably had.

Julia had been surprised by her editor’s invitation to share lunch in Tess’s office, but now realized her employer intended for this to be a working lunch. Which, of course, came as no surprise at all.

“It’s going very well,” she said evasively, not sure how much she wanted her editor to know about her budding relationship with Daniel. If indeed what she and Daniel had was a relationship, and if indeed it was budding.

It was still too new, too fragile, too personal to talk about—with anyone—having been only a few days since they’d made dinner together. But. Julia had awoken two mornings ago in a much better mood than she normally did on a Monday. That could only be because she’d spent her weekend with Daniel. Breakfast Sunday had led to a movie in the afternoon, then dinner that evening. And then drinks al fresco by the park before Daniel escorted her home, lingering inside her apartment just long enough to kiss her good-night. Twenty-seven times.

They’d spent Monday and Tuesday evening together, too, not to mention lunch yesterday. In fact, since meeting Daniel Friday night, Julia had spent virtually every moment of her nonworking life in his presence. Normally, being with one person that much would drive her nuts. With Daniel, though, the days had seemed to pass too quickly. Already, she was anticipating meeting him again, that night after work.

“And by ‘very well,’ you would mean…?” Tess asked.

Julia shrugged, hoping the gesture didn’t look as awkward as it felt. “I mean it’s going very well,” she said.

Tess narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Have you met any men who might be worth mentioning for the article?”

“One or two,” Julia told her. The correct answer, naturally, being one. The other men she’d met weren’t exactly “worth” mentioning. Except maybe to provide some comic relief.

Tess uttered a sound of exasperation that put Julia on red alert, tossing her fork into her Cobb salad with much flourish. “Tell me you’re not wasting the magazine’s time,” she demanded.

“I’m not wasting the magazine’s time,” Julia vowed.

“Tell me this article is going to be excellent,” Tess insisted.

“The article is going to be excellent,” Julia promised.

“Tell me you’ve met someone special to write about.”

“I’ve met someone special,” Julia assured her. And then she smiled. Because she just couldn’t help herself. “Oh, Tess, I’ve met someone wonderful,” she added as she leaned back in her chair.