Kevin's height grabbed her attention first. Once her gaze traveled up his well-toned body to reach his brown eyes, she noticed how deep and soulful they were. He had thick, brown hair that her fingers were dying to swim inside. Then there were his hands, big and meaty. During dinner while he talked, she scanned his body and stopped at his hands.

She already imagined them on her body, caressing her skin, palming her breasts, squeezing her ass. Yessica crossed her legs. As she watched him twirling the stem of his wine glass with his fingers, she squeezed her legs together harder. Those long fingers of his would be heavenly delving inside of her, hitting her core, and making her come over and over again.

"So what is it that you do?" Yessica rubbed her legs together, easing one leg up and down as she braced her head against the propped up palm of her hand.

"You mean besides make you nervous?" Kevin shot back with a sly smile.

To his response, she blinked and raised her head from her palm. "You don't make me nervous."

"Oh yeah? Then why is it that you've been looking down all through dinner?"

She leaned forward, confident that her opened shirt showed off her breasts. "Maybe something else on you has caught my attention."

"What? My wallet?" He snickered.

"Nope. But you're in the right vicinity."

Juices flowed from the apex between her thighs the more she flirted with Kevin. From his grin, he liked the game.

"Attorney," he finally answered.

"Oh, no wonder you know Marcus. Couldn't convince him to go back into law, huh?" She took a slow sip of her red wine. Bitter, but staring at Kevin made the drink taste sweet.

"His heart was into his circus. That's all he ever talked about in college. Just like my mom's heart was into me taking over Thibbideaux and Thibbideaux."

"And what's that?"

"The law firm my father and his brother started. My dad died when I was a teenager and my uncle kept the business going in hopes that I would fill my father's spot someday. So that's what I did."

Yessica caught the longing in his eyes and his tone. "What a terrible loss. My mother passed away during my first year in college. It was her dream that I would finish school and become a teacher. Knowing that was the only thing that kept me in school because I wanted to give up and come home so many times."

"But you didn't. That means you're a survivor." He flashed a sincere smile.

She couldn't help but place her hand on top of his. The warmth of it crawled up her arm and engulfed her chest. At that point she noticed they were both breathing hard and not breaking their gazes from one another.

"You want to dance, Miss Battle?" he asked her once the jazz band started to play something slow and melodic.

"I would love to, Mr. Thibbideaux." She took his hand and he led her to the dance floor.

Like the polite man she suspected him to be, he took one of her hands into his, then put his hand to her waist. Keeping at least a foot apart between them, he danced a sweet dance. But with this type of music, the way she felt, and the man she had before her, this wasn't the time for sweetness. She wanted to feel him.

Removing her hand from his grasp, she slid her hand up his arm until it reached his shoulder. Then she moved her other hand to his shoulder and wrapped it around his neck. Pressing her body against his chest, she felt his heart pounding. Was he as excited as she was? Or was he scared ... like she was?

Kevin had tapped the nail right on the head when he'd caught her not so subtle way she avoided looking into his eyes. Getting to know Kevin, she saw herself easily falling for him. She had to stop doing that. Just because a guy seemed like the perfect package didn't mean he was marriage material.

Kevin did look good though. And he did say all the right things. That just meant he had something to hide. No man could be this perfect. As her mama had always said, "If something looks too good to be true, it probably is."

Yessica would keep her heart guarded. The rest of her body remained up for grabs. From the way Kevin's hands slid down her body and rested on her waist right above her hips, she suspected he wanted her to be in his arms as much as she wanted to be there.

The man was funny, sexy, and charming. And he smelled like walking sex. A musky, heady scent swirled around him. On instinct or from just pure nerve, Yessica pressed her lips against the side of his neck.

She couldn't tell if it was the drumbeat from the live band or if the rumble she heard came from Kevin. One thing remained unmistakable. The growing bulge pressed against her stomach clued her in that he found her as attractive as she found him.

At the end of the song, Kevin slowed in releasing her from his hold.

While still in his arms, not ready to leave, she whispered in his ear, "My place or yours? Which is closer?"

"Mine," he growled.

"Let's go."