Page 29 of Callum

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Callum shot back the sleeve of his jacket to look at the time again. He had deliberately stayed away from calling her and waswaiting for her to arrive. He had left his associates and their wives inside the hotel's private dining room to head her off. He knew there would be fireworks and wanted it done in private.

Where the hell was she? He was just taking out his phone to call the driver when the car slid smoothly through the winding path leading to the hotel's entrance. Before the very eager valet could rush forward, Callum stepped forward to open the door and had to take several breaths to control himself as he got his first look at her.

Without a word, he took her hand and helped her, nodding to his driver as the man approached. "We won't be needing for the rest of the night."

Sensing she was about to drag her hand out of his, he tightened his hold and led them inside. His breath became strangled again when she shrugged the jacket and turned towards him.

"Christ Jesus!" his voice was reverent as he stared at her. Ignoring the coat checker, he clamped his hands on her arms, his gaze sweeping from her ruthlessly brushed hair tumbling down her shoulders to the dress that highlighted the curves he had come to admire so much. "Look at you."

Lynn felt the sizzle of anger drain away at the dazed look on his handsome face. "We are going to talk, but later."

"I am sure we will." Lifting her hand, he kissed the knuckles slowly, sending hot darts of fire inside her belly. "I am the most fortunate man in the entire hotel."

"You are going to change your mind later tonight." She warned, feeling warmed by his compliment.

"Ah, here we are." He led her into a room where several waiters were hovering and to a long table with about six men and an equal number of women seated. The men rose instantly, and introductions were made.

She relished the quick admiring looks from the men and the slight envy on the women's faces. Callum left no doubt about the nation of their relationship as he insisted on keeping his hand on the small of her back as he made the introductions and placed her right next to him.

"Ms. Peterson," A swarthy-looking man with a German accent bent a smile on her. "Callum tells me you are a very talented actress. We are hoping to see you perform before we leave the country."

Her eyes flew to Callum's, and he stared at her with lifted brows before indicating that the first course should commence.

"I will be certain to get you tickets-" She looked around the table. "All of you?"

"But of course." The man smiled at her. "But Callum has already procured seats for us for the day. He has been waxing eloquent about your character."

"He might be somewhat biased." She told him easily as she reached for her wine.

"He just might be," Turning to the man seated at his right, he struck up a conversation, allowing her to concentrate on the man next to her.

"You were that certain I would be here?" She asked quietly as she sipped the excellent wine.

"Let's just say that I had it in mind to come and fetch you myself if you had not turned up. Happy that you did." He smiled winsomely as she glared at him.

"Of all the arrogant-" She clamped her mouth shut and hissed out a breath when his hand touched her thigh. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material searing her skin.

"Stop."

"I want to sink myself inside you and never come back out." His deep voice and the look in his amazing eyes weakened her. She was about to blast him when their meal came wheeling in.

She had to admit that she enjoyed the evening. The food was excellent, and the conversation stimulating. It was the first time she saw him in this light - the powerful businessmanentertaining other powerful men, but it is evident that Callum controlled the room.

He did not shut her out of the conversation, even when discussing business mergers and cents on the dollar. He would turn to her, his hand resting possessively on her arm to include her in the conversation. She had to admire that about him.

The other women were not so fortunate and had to fend for themselves. The seven-course meal dragged on, but it was not a chore. At the end of it, he suggested they join some of the others on the dance floor before dessert and coffee had been brought out.

"You are just looking for an excuse to feel me up." She accused as she turned into his arms. The heels on her shoes allowed her to come up face-to-face with him.

"I do not need an excuse." His hands drifted to the small of her back. "It feels like you are not wearing anything under the dress."

"I am not going to satisfy your prurient sexual fantasy by answering you."

He chuckled softly, hand drifting further down and drawing her closer. "Prurient? I like the sound of that."

"You would." She muttered. "Where are the reporters?"