Rush by Maya Banks Page B

front of him.
    He was larger-than-life, filling the room, even in the faded jeans and T-shirt. His presence was indomitable. The way he looked at her made her feel branded.
    His lazy gaze drifted over her, warming her skin as if he’d actually touched her. When he reached her eyes, he smiled and then simply held out his hand.
    She closed the remaining distance between them and slipped her palm over his. He circled her fingers and squeezed before pulling her into a breathless kiss. He sipped at her lips and then grazed them with his teeth, nipping with just enough force so they tingled. Then he licked over the seam of her mouth, coaxing until she opened again and allowed him entrance.
    “I arranged dinner for us. I hope you’re hungry,” he said in a husky voice.
    “Starving,” she admitted.
    He frowned. “Did you not eat today?”
    “I had some orange juice. Didn’t really feel like eating.”
    She didn’t mention the fact that she was hungover, had little sleep, and that the thought of food until now had made her want to hurl.
    He guided her toward the elegant dining room table that stood in front of a huge picture window overlooking Manhattan. There was a dazzling array of lights from the surrounding buildings that were silhouetted against the sky at dusk.
    “You’re not still nervous, are you?” he asked as he seated her.
    She laughed. “I’m in uncharted waters, Gabe. You have to know that.”
    He surprised her by pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, and then he moved away. A moment later, he returned carrying two plates. He set a delicious-smelling steak in front of her. It was so tantalizing that her stomach instantly growled.
    He frowned again. “No more skipping meals, Mia.”
    She nodded and then waited as he returned to the kitchen again. This time he came back bearing a bottle of wine. He sat across from her and then filled both their glasses.
    “I wasn’t sure of your likes and dislikes when it comes to food. We’ll certainly have time to go over that and I’ll learn your preferences. But I figured I couldn’t go wrong with a filet.”
    “No, not at all,” she said. “A good steak cures most anything.”
    “I couldn’t agree more.”
    She dug into her meal, watching Gabe from underneath her eyelashes. There were a million questions buzzing around in her head, but she didn’t want to inundate him. As he had said, they had plenty of time to learn one another. Most people waited a little further into that learning curve before jumping into a sexual relationship, but she supposed Gabe was well used to doing things his own way, and damn convention. Besides, it wasn’t as though they were complete strangers. Gabe had been a fixture—albeit a distant one—in her life for years.
    The silence stretched between them. She could feel his gaze on her, knew he watched her much as she watched him. Almost like two wary opponents studying one another before engaging in battle. Only Gabe didn’t look as uncertain and awkward as she felt. He looked confident. Like a predator closing in on his prey.
    Butterflies took wing in her belly, and lower, until she squeezed her thighs together in an effort to assuage the ache.
    “You aren’t eating,” Gabe pointed out.
    She stared down at her plate, realizing she’d paused, fork stillin hand, her steak only half eaten. She set it down and then calmly fixed her gaze on Gabe.
    “This is nerve-wracking, Gabe. This is all new to me. I’ve never been in a situation like this. I’m unsure of how to act. What to say. What not to say. Or whether to say anything at all! You sit across from me staring at me like I’m dessert, and I have no idea if this is a simple dinner. A get-comfortable session. Help me out here because I’m floundering.”
    A half smile curved his lips upward. Amusement flared in his eyes. “Mia, darling, you are dessert.”
    Her breath stuttered over clumsy lips as she read the hunger in his eyes that had nothing to do with the steak in