Icing the Puck (New York Empires Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

making a study of the front of the restaurant. His attention, his stare left her uncomfortable on levels she didn’t care to think about.
    She nodded at the restaurant and forced a casual smile, but couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Shall we go in?”
    Lunch was delicious and, to her surprise, a lot of fun. True to his word, he was never awkward and because of that she managed to relax, too. The staff at the restaurant knew him and treated him like an honored guest, but he took it so easily and with such good humor, it didn’t come across as obnoxious.
    She wasn’t sure what to think of the looks she got from the staff, or the wink from the head chef when he’d come out to say hi to Brody. She spent so much of her time trying to avoid attention, it was more than a little disconcerting to have so much focused on them.
    Yet Brody managed to spin it all into a fun and casual atmosphere.
    By the time he forced a dessert on her—which didn’t take a lot of convincing—she’d forgotten to worry about her emotions, or the fire, or much of anything else. She lost herself in the moment, smiling more than she could remember ever doing in her life.
    She was so caught up in his charm and humor, so distracted by the sexy tug at one corner of his mouth when he watched her eat, and the way he filled out his long sleeved shirt, giving her a spectacular view of thick, tempting muscles, she didn’t notice the warmth in her palms or the tingling along her fingers. She didn’t feel the subtle heat building, or the warning flutter of sensation down her arms.
    Until she glanced at the water glass she held in one hand. The water was just starting to boil.
    Gasping, Ann pushed back from the table.
    “I…I’m sorry.”
    She darted out of the restaurant so fast, she forgot her coat and purse. In her panic, she didn’t even care. She had to get outside, into the cool October air, away from Brody’s scent and presence. She had to get herself under control.
    He joined her on the sidewalk, where she stood with her hands fisted, taking long, slow breaths. It was early evening now and lights were winking on along the street and in the nearby buildings. She focused on the cold air, the approaching night, the sounds of people and cars. She tried not to feel Brody step up close behind her.
    “What happened?” he asked. “Are you OK?”
    He settled one of his large hands on her shoulder and she flinched, then shifted away.
    “Please. I need just a few minutes. I can’t…”
    She felt like a fool. How could she explain? She knew her departure from the restaurant made no sense. But she could still feel the heat in her palms, the pulse of the fire in her fingertips. Her skin was so warm, even the sharp bite of the evening wind didn’t touch her.
    She’d spent her entire life suppressing emotion to keep her fire under control. Why had she dropped her guard? She knew better. She had to get away from Brody Evans.
    Before she killed someone.
    Without really paying attention to where she was going, she turned down the street. Foot traffic was still heavy as business people hurrying home flooded the sidewalks. She wove through the crowds, working hard to avoid touching anyone. Something in her expression must have given warning, because most people moved out of her way.
    She was aware of Brody following her, but she didn’t turn to look at him.
    “We didn’t dine and dash just now, did we?” she asked over her shoulder.
    “I paid before I followed you. Can we talk about what happened?”
    “No.”
    When she felt his fingers brush her arm, she jerked away again. “Please, don’t touch me right now.”
    “Ann. Damn it, stop walking and talk to me. I thought we were having a nice time.”
    “We were. Too nice. I need to go.” She reached for a purse that wasn’t there and finally stopped. When she faced him, he was holding her bag and coat out to her, a little crease between his brows.
    She was sure she’d ruined whatever good feelings