he said, and his smile broadened.A smile that was contagious. “Hmm...” Delight zipped up her spine. Things were looking up already! “Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”“Tonight, okay?”“Perfect.” Sooner the better she mused, her desire sparked by the intimate fire building between them. “I have a few phone calls to make so can we say, around seven?”“Seven works for me.” Hesitation collected in his eyes. “Should I pick you up?”Sam almost giggled at his sudden case of timidity, but only nodded. “It’ll save on gas.”Vic’s smile turned to grin. “You pick the place and I’ll see you at seven.”Dinner. What a marvelous turn of events. She couldn’t be more pleased.Outside the busy café on Ocean Drive, Sam felt the stress slip from her body. The first swallow of gin cut across her taste buds, raced straight down her limbs, and pummeled the tension from her muscles.Only one thing outranked a gin martini; a hot bath.Sitting across from her, Vic dwarfed the bistro table yet still managed to appear comfortable, relaxed, even embraced the local style, sporting a white Guayabera for the occasion. Feet away, cars rolled along at a snail’s pace, the inhabitants here to see and be seen, while a steady stream of pedestrians weaved between tables scattered across the sidewalk. The energy of South Beach was high, the sights and people bright and lively, the music pulsating through her body, into the air—hands down this was one of her top spots in the city.“So, Vic, you like Miami?”“It’s okay. Definitely has its upside.” He gave a quick shake to his head as a man passed their table. Flaunting nothing more than a loin cloth secured low around his hips by a rope—Indian style—he waved maracas through the air, making odd calls and shrieks in sync with his flailing arms.Sam met his gaze. “We call that local flavor.”“That’s some kind of flavor,”
