WALKING THE LINE

Chapter 7

ELLIE

Kye was a no-show.

Not that the twenty minutes I'd waited here had been a hardship. While Double Bay reeked of exclusivity, Maik's had a more welcoming vibe. Sure, it had the requisite black marble and chrome that trendy bars had these days—and so far removed from my mahogany decor it wasn't funny—but there was a warmth here in the strategically placed Japanese screens and secluded tables that I admired despite the minimalist art and white stone fake fireplaces.

And Kye was right about the beers. I'd sampled four and while I may be well on my way to Tipsyville I now knew what to add to my stock.

When the clock behind the stainless steel bar hit seven-thirty and I'd checked my phone for the umpteenth time to see if he'd answered my texts or call, I gave up on Kye.

I had my head down, rummaging in my bag for cab fare, when someone touched my shoulder.

"Don't go."

I froze and glanced up into Finn's handsome face.

"Have dinner with me." He gripped my elbow. "I've heard the chef's special degustation menu is worth the hefty price."

"You're insane." I yanked my arm free, annoyed I wobbled a little. Shouldn't have had all those beers because for one, crazy second I thought there was nothing I'd like more than to have dinner with Finn in this lovely place. "Besides, I'm meeting Kye and he's due any second."

To my chagrin, Finn grinned and tapped my nose. "Haven't you heard this will grow if you tell fibs?"

"How do you know—"

"Because I asked Kye to set this up." He had the grace to look sheepish. "You're either too busy avoiding me or fobbing me off, so I called in the cavalry."

"I'll kill him," I muttered, secretly impressed Kye had gone to such lengths to get me and the Irishman together. Not that it would stop the verbal flaying he had coming his way.

"Please, Ellie, it's just dinner—"

"No." I slipped into my leather jacket and slung my bag over my shoulder, already eyeing the door.

He shrugged. "Too bad. I've already pre-paid for the degustation and you know how strapped for cash I am. Shame you'd let me lose money because you're in mortal fear of being alone with something this good." He patted himself on the chest and I couldn't stop a reluctant smile.

"Have you really paid or is that another lie you and Kye seem so good at?"

"I've paid. But drinks are on you if it appeases your feminist side."

Guilted into it, I nodded. "Fine. But you're lucky I don't fire your arse for coercing me into this by nefarious methods."

He held up his hands in surrender, the picture of faux innocence, and this time laughter burst from my lips.

Finn grinned at me like I'd just handed him a thousand dollar tip. "Our table's this way."

He placed a guiding hand in the small of my back, something that usually annoyed me with guys. Presumptuous. But with Finn, it merely made me feel safe.

It was probably the beer buzz, but when we sat at a cozy table for two at the back of the bar, a screen increasing the intimacy between us, I didn't mind. In fact, it felt nice.

"This isn't so bad, huh?" He rested his forearms on the table. Strong, lean forearms with a light dusting of auburn hair.

How many times had I surreptitiously stared at him, wondering how it would feel to be held in those arms, to be caressed by those hands? Too many and now, with Finn within touching distance, and my resistance lowered by alcohol, I was in immediate danger of doing something I'd regret.

"Depends on your definition of bad," I said, aiming for flippant, but ending up having to clear my throat when I made the mistake of looking into his eyes.

Damn, he felt it too. This thing between us. Invisible. Intangible. But intense all the same.

"Stop looking at me like that," he said, reaching for a glass of water.

"Like what?" I watched him swallow, even admiring the column of his neck.

"Like you think I'm going to gobble you up."

"I'm not—"

"Yeah, you are." He leaned across the table. "And I promise to gobble you up only if you ask nicely."

Heat surged to my cheeks, and several choice places in between. "Must be true what they say about kissing the Blarney Stone."

"I'm not rambling, sweetheart. I'm just stating facts." He relaxed into his chair and pinned me with an intense stare that left me breathless. "I want you. Naked and hot and panting for me."

I gaped at him, stunned by how fiercely I wanted that too.