Sydney placed her glass on the tray. He appreciated the fact that she didn’t need something to toy with.
When they were alone again, she said, “I understand you’re divorced, Mr Dayton. No kids. You have a ranch you’d like to protect from gold-diggers. You scene every once in a while, and you’re not looking for a serious commitment.”
“Do you know my blood type?”
She gave a quick grin. “No. I only asked about the important stuff.”
“You found out a lot quickly.”
“I like being prepared. If I’m going to spend an hour with a man, I want to make sure the time is worth it. I don’t think it’s fair to either of us if there are false expectations.”
“You’re mistaken, Sydney.”
“About which part?”
“We’ll be spending more than an hour together. I can’t get you properly warmed up in under sixty minutes, and I intend to keep you on the edge, writhing for an orgasm for much, much longer than that.”
Her eyes widened, and for the first time he noticed how blue they were, a shade of ice, a shocking contradiction to the heat she radiated.
“That’s a brash statement, Michael.”
He captured her chin gently. “Find out for yourself, Ms Wallace. Let’s have an experiment here at the Den to see if we have chemistry. After that, we can head out to my ranch. It’s about forty-five minutes from here. Or if you’d prefer, we can go to your place. Wherever you feel most comfortable.” He noticed her legs were alluringly bare. He’d always been a stockings man. Or at least he had been. Until now. “Are you wearing underwear?”
With his index finger, he stroked her cheekbone. “I asked you a question.”