Body Language: The Boot Knockers, Book 2 by Em Petrova Page B

to be. She threw herself into the physical part because they’d meshed from the start. But he wasn’t hers. She was in this bed with him because she’d paid for a vacation.
    “I got that tattoo at a rough time in my life. I’d lost my way, and I only had my heart left. So I wanted to show how I’d kept a tight hold on it.”
    She looked up at him. He stared straight up at the ceiling fan, mouth tight.
    Running a hand over his tattoo and down to his sculpted abs, she said, “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
    “Tell me the poem.”
    As she did, he closed his eyes. She studied him, etching this moment into her soul.
    Sharing a delicious meal with Ruthie under the stars and listening to her talk was the most decadent pleasure Damian could imagine. They had the veranda outside the grub house all to themselves, strangely enough. At times this area was packed. Damian had caught more than one couple in the throes of ecstasy out here too.
    Ruthie shined like a jewel under the velvet sky. She’d twisted her hair and pinned it up. A few tendrils swung down to kiss her jaw, tormenting the hell out of him. And she wore a navy dress with thread-thin straps that crisscrossed over her upper back. The waist tucked in and then flared over her hips. As she’d dressed, he’d watched her. When she’d asked him to zip her, his heart had stuttered.
    She raised her napkin and wiped her lips. “This is amazing food.”
    “Cook outdid herself tonight,” he agreed. Prime rib with garlic mashed potatoes, asparagus and a perfect Hollandaise sauce.
    Ruthie cut off a small bite and popped the steak into her mouth.
    “It’s nice to see a woman eating beef.”
    Her lips tipped up as she chewed and swallowed. “Do so many women not eat beef?”
    “You’d be surprised.” He speared some asparagus and let it hover near his lips. “When you come to Texas, you should have beef. If you don’t, you break a law or something.”
    She giggled. “Well, this is perfect. Those women should be in jail.”
    He dropped his head, pressure mounting in his chest. He wasn’t usually sensitive to his past, but right now he wished more than anything he didn’t have a record. He wished like hell he was worthy of a woman like Ruthie.
    No, worthy of Ruthie .
    “We never had good food like this while I was growing up,” she went on, oblivious to his discomfort.
    “No?” He put the asparagus in his mouth, but didn’t really taste it.
    “No, it was a sin.”
    At that, he laughed. “Food is a sin?”
    She paused with another bite of beef halfway to her full lips and nodded. “Gluttony.”
    “Ah, yes.” He relaxed a bit and finished his vegetable.
    “Also, prideful.”
    He quirked a brow. “How so?”
    “Only the wealthy would be able to afford good beef like this. If you ate this little bite here,” she popped it in her mouth and switched it to the side so she could speak, “you would be flaunting your wealth.”
    He couldn’t help but smile at her. Under the moonlight, she was stunning. He’d never seen such perfect skin. And her eyes tonight…
    “My family never had much use for the word of the Lord,” he admitted, cutting his beef. “My father’s word was the word of the Lord.”
    She nodded. “So he was strict?”
    “Not overly strict, but we Vince children knew better than to cross him. How about you? Get in any scrapes as a kid?”
    “All the time.” She sat back and folded her hands over her stomach. He wondered if she was getting full after only a few bites. They still had baked apples with fresh cream for dessert.
    He gave her a look. “I don’t think a girl like you could get into trouble.”
    “Well, maybe not that much,” she admitted, dropping her gaze. She instantly raised it, and his heart turned over. “Like your father, mine was a person you didn’t want to deliver a punishment.”
    “Do you punish your students?”
    “They don’t often need more than a few minutes deducted from recess. Third-graders are