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When she pulled out the key, he caught her hand in his. "Here, let me do
that," he offered. The mere touch of his hand sent a warming shiver through
her. He unlocked the door and handed her back the key.
Valencia stared
at him for a long minute. It had been ages since a man accompanied her home. She
wasn’t sure what to do. From the intensity in Michael’s eyes, she knew what he
wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her again. She remembered the feel of his lips
interacting with hers. She wasn’t in control of that situation, but this was on
her terms. She wasn’t about to let Michael kiss her good night.
"I better get inside," she said after a long breath, crossing the threshold
into the foyer.
"You never answered my question," he reminded her, not ready
to let her end the night.
Valencia turned to face him. "Which one?"
"Will
you have dinner with me?"
She angled her head to the side. "Can I call
you?"
He gave her a
gentle smile. "All right, we’ll do it your way." Michael reached in his back
pocket, pulled out his wallet, took out a piece of paper, and wrote his number
on it. "Don’t just take my number and not use it. If I don’t hear from you,
Valencia Hill, I will show up at your place of business." Michael grinned,
boldly taking Valencia’s hand in his. "Good night."
Without another
word, he turned and strolled away. He opened the car door, sliding behind the
wheel. Before he started the engine, he looked back at the house. She had gotten
to him. No woman had ever done that.
