Ship of Dreams (Dreams Come True Series Book 2) by Rebecca Heflin

It’s just sex then.”
    This time his eyebrows shot up. “Just sex? Again, what’s the point if the act is, well, pointless. Sugar, for someone who says she appreciates the finer things in life, your view of sex is rather . . . jaded. Sex should be savored, just like a fine wine”—he selected a rosé—“or a rich bouillabaisse.”
    She lifted a brow in response.
    “Fair warning,” he continued. “Sex with me will be neither meaningless nor pointless.”
    Laura’s breath caught as he pinned her with his gaze. Her breathing shallowed as she watched those full lips caress the rim of the wineglass. Biting her lip, she pressed a hand to her bouncing knee. Men, even those with whom she expected to have sex, did not make her nervous.
    He took a sip of the wine. “Mmm. Try this.” He handed the glass to her.
    Their fingers touched as he passed the wine to her and she felt it like a bolt of lightning. All this talk of sex, meaningless or otherwise, had simply heightened her reaction. At least that was what she told herself.
    Suppressing a shiver, she took a mouthful of the wine, let the flavors explode on her tongue before swallowing. “Crisp. Refreshing.” She tilted her head. “What did you taste?”
    He looked thoughtful a moment, and a little self-conscious. “Let’s see. Citrus, red berries, and . . . peach.”
    “You have a connoisseur’s discerning taste buds.”
    He shrugged. “I just know what I like.” He reached across the table and took her free hand, rubbing the back with his thumb.
    Goose pimples crept up her arm, as her lips parted.
    “And I like how your lips taste.” His eyes drifted to her lips. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”
    Holy Rhett Butler!
    They sampled several more glasses of wine before ordering. But rather than savoring her meal, Nathan could tell Laura was chomping at the bit to get the dinner over with. He enjoyed watching her squirm in her seat and smiled over the jittery leg bounce beneath the table. “Do you always do that when you’re nervous?”
    “Do what?”
    “Bounce your leg.” Not getting an answer, he chuckled. “Good things come to those who wait.”
    “What?”
    “You know . . . patience is a virtue.”
    Laura snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly virtuous.”
    She sure as hell didn’t look virtuous in a sleeveless dress with a neckline that dipped south of her sternum, baring lots of luscious skin, including the curve of her breasts, her hair pulled back in her customary tail.
    First on tonight’s agenda, sliding the tie from her hair and running his fingers through it. Next, tasting all that skin. Heat flared in his abdomen, and he admonished himself about the aforementioned patience.
    “What do you think of the ship’s décor?” he asked, redirecting his thoughts. Might as well pick her brain.
    “I appreciate Art Deco as much as the next person, but like Christmas decorations, a little goes a long way.”
    He nodded in agreement.
    “I’d prefer something in relaxing neutrals, something contemporary but warm.” She waved her hand at their surroundings. “Something like this.”
    He made a mental note. Laura’s sophisticated taste level couldn’t be ignored, and he’d been thinking the same thing himself. The new ship needed a more relaxed feel. “I can’t help but think I’ve stepped into a Fred Astaire movie.” He chuckled over a fond memory of his grandmother watching the old black and white movies after a long day on the farm. She’d always been a very practical woman, but her face turned dreamy when she watched Fred and Ginger glide across the screen.
    “Or Jean Harlow,” Laura offered.
    “You a classic movie buff?”
    “No, her image is in the ad for Indulgence, one of my favorite perfumes.”
    “Oh, right. Great ad. Saw it in GQ, I think.” He tilted his head.“So, what should we order for dessert?”
    “Dessert?”
    “Of course. We can’t pass up the decadent desserts offered.” He