“I wasn’t entirely kidding,” I laugh.
“Brynne, I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Unless, of course, you wanted me to.”
I gasp. My jaw hangs open for a split second before I can recover.
Fenton grins, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m only teasing. But I will admit to looking at a few of your photographs. It was only so I could identify you. Well, that was the reason at first. And then I realized how beautiful you are.”
“Thank you,” I say, still getting my wits about me. He’s throwing so much my way—compliments, overtones, insinuations—that it’s hard to stay focused. Even in the chaos, I feel a smile stretching across my cheeks. “I suppose I can live with that.”
“You did change your password, right?”
I bite my lip.
“For the love of God, change it. Or just hand it here and I’ll change it for you.” He quirks a brow and I can’t help but giggle.
“I bet you’d love that.”
“I can’t say I’d hate it,” he laughs. “But in all seriousness, do it. You don’t want some random person breaking into your information.”
“Someone random like . . . you?”
“I’m not a random person.” He watches my brows shoot to the ceiling and sighs. “Okay, I am kind of random in this situation. But I’m a responsible, trustworthy man. The world smiled at you when I found it and not some undersexed teenager.”
My cheeks flush and I take a sip of my wine to try to bide myself some time. He watches the glass lift to my lips, my tongue licking the moisture off them as I place the crystal back on the table.
“So,” I say, feeling brave, “It’s safe to assume you aren’t undersexed?”
His lips twitch and I wonder if he’s fighting a smile or a smirk. Either way, I struggle with my own to prevent them from lurching across the table and planting them on his.
“At this moment,” he grins, “I feel a little . . . needy.”
“No one likes a needy man.”
“Is that so?”
I nod, watching him feel me out.
“What do people like?”
“People in the biblical sense? Or people like . . . me?”
My heartbeat pounds so hard that I feel a touch lightheaded. I’m usually not so forward, especially on a first date. But he makes it so easy, so natural, that I fall into step with his banter without even thinking about it.
His features light up, his head cocking to the side. “Let’s go with you.”
“Okay, then,” I say, surprising myself with the confidence in my voice. “What do I like in a man? I’d have to say I’m partial to alpha males that make me laugh. And confidence and intelligence are always, always hot.”
“I’m four for four.”
I laugh. “I’ll agree that you don’t seem to be lacking in confidence.”
His laughter mixes with mine and I love the way it sounds melting together. He notices it, too, because our voices ring out longer than necessary, and when they die out, we both seem to miss it immediately.
“So,” he says, sitting back in his chair and taking a sip of his wine, “what did you do today after you cleared me of wrongdoing?”
“Presley and I looked at some getaways. We’re thinking of going away for a weekend before I go back to school. Someplace fun and relaxed.”
“Those are my favorite places. When I go away, I want to shut down and zone out.”
“Don’t we all,” I sigh. “That’s exactly what I need right now. Just to get away from the craziness in my life and have some fun.”
“Traveling is one of life’s simplest pleasures. I do it as often as I can. It’s in my blood, a nomad’s heart.”
As apprehensive as I was to be alone with him, I’m surprised at how easy things are. He seems to feel it too, because his shoulders aren’t rigid anymore. It’s nice.
“What do you do for work?” I ask, glancing at my food but not yet settled enough to eat.
“I’m in business.”
“I saw that.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You cyber-stalked me?”
“Of course I did! You really didn’t think I was just going to meet you here, did you?”
“Yeah,” he says in disbelief. “I kind of did. Do you research all your dates?”
I shrug. “If I went on a lot of dates I would.”
Peering at me over the rim of his glass, he decides to press the issue. I fire a warning glance, a look that says that topic is off limits for the moment, and he relents.
“The web didn’t give me much,” I comment, “other than you seem to work a lot in Vegas. Just so you know.”
“I do a lot of different things and much of that is based in Las Vegas. The web told the truth.” He takes another sip of his wine before continuing. “My parents owned companies that I’ve taken over since their passing and consolidated under one big umbrella. They were very different people, so we do a lot of different things.”