Whispers in the Night Excerpt
"I'm not going to let you," she pointed one manicured finger at his expensive silk tie, "move your company to town and tear the Center down, along with the hopes of the kids that attend it."
He reached for her pointing finger--mainly to stop her from drawing blood by poking him--and kissed the hand attached to it.
Patricia, frozen by the soft caress, watched his dark, chocolate brown eyes follow the path from her hand, up her arm, and settle on her mouth. She was not expecting that.
Patricia looked into his eyes and she felt the onset of a sensual storm. If she wasn't careful, it would catch her up in its spiral and whirl her away.
"Very well," he whispered. Very lovely, he thought. "I respect your commitment to the Center." When Mac had first seen her, Patricia's looks drew his attention. But during her speech, he had detected the full force of her drive and commitment.
"I'd like to discuss this topic again with you." His hand traveled up her forearm and rested at her elbow. For moments Mac just stood before her absorbing her face: the smoothness of her cheeks, the thickness of her lashes, the sincerity in her eyes, the caution in her smile, the fullness of her mouth.
Patricia sat entranced by the power and seduction behind his small actions. He physically captivated her so easily. She watched the corners of his mouth--a mouth Patricia thought could kiss masterfully--tip up in a grin. She knew she had to interrupt the quiet, yet disquieting, moment.
Mac must have sensed her discomfort because he said, "I think I'd better leave, before I do something I'd probably enjoy completely." Pausing, he smiled. "And so would you."