Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (SEALS, Inc., Book 1)

Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll

Ava moved her gaze to Rachel. "Business or pleasure?"

Before he could set Ava straight, Rachel scooted back her chair and stood to extend a hand. "Business," Rachel answered for him. "Rachel Newberry."

Ava's lips split into a grin as she halfway shook Rachel's hand. "Is that what you call it these days, Hawke?"

Hawke's eyes widened and for the very first time in his life, he didn't have a clue how to respond. Again, Rachel beat him to the punch.

"I can assure you we really are discussing business."

Ava narrowed her violet eyes, obviously suspicious. "What kind of business?"

Hawke waited a split second to see if Rachel would once again intervene and then realized she couldn't. His own confidentiality agreement prevented it. Damn, where was his back-up?

"Hawke." Rachel laid her hand on his forearm. "Why don't you tell Ava about the real estate development venture you're interested in."

Warmth seeped into his skin and spread over his body. Rachel was sheer genius.

Hawke smiled at Ava and Erica. "Would you ladies like to join us and hear about it?"

Ava didn't hesitate. "I think not, Hawke. You know I find that kind of talk boring. Besides, we're meeting someone."

"It was very nice to meet the two of you," Rachel said as she sat back down.

Ava gave Rachel a cursory glance. "You too."

She leaned to place a kiss on Hawke's cheek. "You know the number if you get tired of real estate."

Hawke didn't answer, relieved when Ava and Erica wiggled out of sight.

He sat down with a whole new respect for Rachel's intelligence. "How did you know she wouldn't want to talk real estate?"

Rachel lifted one shoulder. "Lucky guess."

"Well, you're right. Ava doesn't talk business much."

Rachel lowered her head for a quick moment and then lifted it. "Did you know approximately two million women in the U.S. have breast implants?"

Hawke paused. How was he supposed to answer that? And more importantly, should he?

"Umm-"

"And," she continued, oblivious to his hesitance, "6% end up having them removed."

Again, Hawke sat silent. Only, this time he let his gaze drop to her chest. He didn't even have to ask. Nothing implanted there. And the result was absolute perfection.

He raised his gaze and cleared his throat, hoping his next response would satisfy her. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes. The American Medical Association monitors those surgeries closely."

Hawke shifted. Somehow the talk of breasts, implants or real, had him achy and uncomfortable. And his position wasn't helped much when his mind flashed visions of yanking Rachel out of her chair, plastering her to the table, ripping open her blouse and sampling hers right then and there. Luckily, the waiter arrived with dinner and both he and Rachel were preoccupied with eating.

Throughout the meal, Hawke carefully kept conversation light and far away from anatomy. Much to his relief, Rachel seemed to relax and forget all about the earlier events of the evening.

As soon as the plates were cleared, Hawke pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialed and then asked Max to meet them at the back door. "How about a moonlight stroll?" he suggested after he disconnected.

Rachel placed her napkin on the table. "As nice as that sounds, Hawke, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I've got some things to finish back at the office."

"You work long hours," he said carefully as he helped her from the chair.

A small smile of enchantment touched her lips. "Yes."

"Maybe next time," he suggested, escorting her back out of the restaurant and into the car.

"Hawke," she began hesitantly as Max drove to Newberry & Tremaine, "I'm sure there are plenty of women waiting for you at the hotel who would love to take a moonlight stroll."

He snickered in the darkness. "You've read too many tabloids."

Rachel dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "I don't read those magazines. Only thirty three percent of the articles printed are based on fact anyway."

He bit his lip. If she hadn't read the tabloids, then his PR worked. He'd managed to convince her he was a careless, free spirit, loving and leaving women all over the world. Except he wasn't.

Somewhere, down deep in his heart, a part of him wanted to set her straight. Why was that so important? He shook his head. Normally by this time of the evening he'd be naked, sweaty and satisfied. Yet, tonight he'd gotten more pleasure out of taking her to dinner. Even if she avoided his advances.

Max brought the car to a stop and stepped out to open the back door.  Hawke took Rachel's hand and led her through the front door of the office building.

"Hawke, this really isn't necessary." She frowned. "The building provides 24-hour security. I'll be fine."

He pulled her onto the elevator. "Good to know."

He leaned casually against the wall railing as the doors closed. "Are there cameras in the elevators?"

"No,  just in the hallways."

He pushed himself off the railing. "So, no one could see what happened in here at any given time."

"No."

He moved closer and circled her with his arms, gently placing one hand in the small of her back. "And, if something did happen in here, only the occupants would know."

Rachel answered with a slow nod.

"Do you want something to happen in here?"

Her eyes glowed in the heat between them. "Yes."

Hawke swallowed her whispered consent as he lowered his head and captured her lips. Within seconds of contact, he fought the urge to wrap his fingers around her hair and pin her to the wall. To lift her skirt over her creamy thighs and drape one long, shapely leg across his hip. White-hot flames traveled the length of his body. A breathy moan left her lips and taunted his libido to put them both out of misery.

Yet, despite the electricity boiling his blood, his insides quivered at the tenderness of her kiss. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest. She felt so right. Warm, soft, pliable, his for the taking.  But not here.  Not now.

His head swam as he lifted his lips from hers. "Just for the record, Rachel, brains are beautiful."

Hawke forced himself to release her long enough to push the button to open the elevator doors. Knowing full well they were now in the view of several strategically-placed cameras, he returned her to his embrace. With a heavy sigh, he placed a kiss on top of her head, then turned her and nudged her through the open doors.

"Sweet dreams," he told her as the doors slid closed.