The two-drink ticket situation had been blown just after date number four. What was wrong with the men in New Orleans? Had they all gone to the same school of arrogance and domination? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated a rough and tumble man, especially in the art of passion, but not when you first meet him.
I didn’t need to be told that our first date would be in a fancy restaurant. I didn’t need the person to try to impress me with how much money he made.
“So do you like scary movies?” date number eight asked while I slyly glanced at the timer.
“Um, they’re fine.” I adored them. Give me aPoltergeistor evenThe Exorcistand I was a happy girl. Maybe there were someredeeming qualities about the guy. “Which movies are your favorites?” At least I was trying to interact, pretending I was interested. That was the concept of the event. Right?
His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “I love the slasher flicks, the bloodier the better. Especially when they go after a helpless woman.”
Was he salivating?
As he went on to describe a horrific scene that most normal people would at minimum look away from, my skin began to crawl. Here I thought I was a touch macabre around the edges. The last thing I needed was to worry about was waking up in the middle of the night with a butcher knife poised over my face. No, thank you.
Tinkle. Tinkle.
Oh, thank God. The bell.
“Lovely to meet you.” I managed a bright smile.
“Mmm… You too. I know we could make beautiful babies together.”
Oh, my fucking God.
As he moved from the table, I stole a quick glance in Kylie’s direction. She seemed to be having the time of her life, still enjoying the last seconds of her fabulous date. Why hadn’t Mr. Handsome come my way? Damn it.
Now on my third drink, I clandestinely marked a huge red X on the ‘no’ block for the dentist. Or maybe he’d been an optometrist. He’d had good teeth, lots of work done on them for his perfect alignment and sparkling white appearance.
As date number nine approached the seat, I realized I’d dropped my head into my hands.
“That bad, huh?”
The voice dripped of sensuality, deep in vibrato with a soft, rich tone that created images of passion long into the wee morning hours. My knees were already clenched together, the deep core throb unexpected. However, I crossed my fingers as I lifted my head, praying to God the man’s voice and physique matched.
Wow.
While dressed impeccably in an Armani suit, there was a ruggedness about him, perhaps because of the dark ink crawling along the side of his neck. A vine that gave off vibes of a venomous snake. Immediately, he had me wondering what other artwork he had etched on his gorgeous, muscular body.
“Let’s just say I won’t be ordering the wedding invitations.”
He unbuttoned his jacket as he burst into laughter, sliding into the seat as if he owned it. Leaning over, he placed his hand against the side of his face as if preparing to share a dark and sinful secret. “I’ll be honest with you. None of the women in the room have sparked my interest. Until you.”
The little flutter in my stomach was real as well as highly unusual. Even when men flirted openly with me, I usually felt little or nothing. That had also saddened and infuriated me. Or maybe I was worried that no man would ever spark enough of my interest to consider him the one.
Whatever that meant.
“Does that line work with the women you go out with?” I was coy in my question, bringing the wineglass to my lips very slowly. Atechnique I’d perfected years before. The slow motion allowed me to observe various aspects about the man.
He was wearing a watch that cost more than a first home.
His ring was black onyx and diamond, but not a school ring. Perhaps a family crest.
He was polished in his actions, subtle in his gestures, but I had the distinct feeling he was paying as close attention to me as I was to him.
The mystery man was also extremely handsome, well built with an aura of power.
He would do to share a coffee or drink with.
“I wouldn’t know,” he answered.