Sylvie’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she lifted her chin.
“What’s the ex doing now? Is he a famous musician or something?”
She flashed him a sheepish grin. “He’s a stockbroker.”
He grinned back. Dangerous territory, that… sharing a grin with Sylvie Fontaine. Soon he’d be wanting to share other things. Hell, he already wanted that. “You didn’t answer my question. Why haven’t you married again?”
“Frankly, my personal life is none of your business.” At least she wasn’t exposing him to any more of her deadly grins.
“You made it my business, darlin’, when you gave me your potion.” He reached over and plucked a white blossom, tucking it behind one of her ears. The flower softened her features, giving her an almost wanton look.
At first, Sylvie was too stunned to react to his touching her. But not for long. “Don’t touch me,” she said, and put a good three feet between them.
“Why?” Lord, he’d forgotten how much fun it was to tease Sylvie. He never remembered having this urge to touch her, as he did now. No, it was more than an urge, it was a compulsion. He brazenly closed the distance between them.
“Why? Because I don’t like you,” she said.
“I don’t like you either. So?”
She put the back of one hand to her forehead, then sliced him a withering glare.
Except he wasn’t withering. Not anywhere.
“Go away, Luc.”
“Come with me.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Yeah. But no kidding, sugar, you should come with me down to the bayou.”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead with you down on the bayou, or anywhere else.”
He chuckled. “I meant that I want you to check out some of these contaminated streams, in person. What did you think I meant?” He batted his eyelashes at her with presumed innocence.
Her face grew redder at having misinterpreted his words. “I’m not getting anymore involved in your shenanigans than I already am. Matt Sommese is already sniffing around as it is.”
That threw a dash of cold water on his “shenanigans.” Raking the fingers of one hand through his hair, he exhaled with disgust. “Do you think he overheard anything I said? Dammit, I can’t even recall if I revealed anything important.”
She shook her head. “You really didn’t say much. No, I’m sure you didn’t give anything away in that regard. I’m more worried that Matt might find out about my love potion. He was talking to Blanche, and she had had a little too much to drink.”
He grinned.
“Why do you continue to think this is a big joke?” she demanded.
“A love potion! I just can’t get over it. It’s so out of character for you. Now, if Blanche had done it, I would just shrug it off. But you? Unbelievable!”
“Whatever,” she said with a sniff of disdain. “The company is closed tomorrow. Come to my lab Monday afternoon, and I’ll give you the lab results. Then I’m done with you.”
Done with me? I don’t think so, babe. “Okay. Let’s seal the bargain.”
She reached out a hand.
She thinks I mean a handshake. Hah! “With a kiss.” For now.
Her eyes went wide with shock, and her mouth dropped open.
Open mouths were good. He moved in swiftly. Putting one hand on the nape of her neck and wrapping the other around her waist, he hauled her up on tiptoe, flush against his body.
She gasped.
He gasped.
His lips feathered over hers lightly, shaping, coaxing hers into pliancy.
“Salt,” he murmured against her open mouth. “And watermelon.”
“Margaritas,” she whispered back.
That brief movement of her lips against his was like the headiest aphrodisiac. Forget her love potion. Sylvie Fontaine’s lips were pure ambrosia.
Then he stopped thinking. With a hunger that had been building for the past twenty-four hours, Luc used his mouth and tongue and teeth to alternately punish her for the hell she was putting him through, and thank her for the hell she was putting him through. Who knew a kiss could be so powerful?
In the midst of the one unending kiss, Sylvie made little mewling sounds that caused him to press her lower body against his raging erection. Which then caused him to make little mewling sounds. He was about a hundred and ten on the arousal scale, with a hundred being blastoff.