He's listening, she realized. He is actually listening instead of just reacting.
James allowed her to pull him back down onto the couch, though he positioned himself to face her fully. The movement put them closer together than they'd been all evening, close enough that Victoria could see the flecks of gold in his brown-green eyes, could count the subtle lines around his mouth that spoke of someone who smiled often.
Shocked, James turned to face her fully, his mind reeling with questions that demanded answers. The emotional whiplash was leaving him raw, confused, desperate for clarity. He needed to know where he stood with her emotionally, whether this was all just physical attraction or something deeper.
Victoria could see the questions building behind his eyes, could practically feel the intensity of his need for understanding. This was the James she felt deeply for, the one who refused to accept surface explanations, who demanded depth and honesty even when it was uncomfortable.
The frustration building inside him finally burst forth. "Okay then tell me. What is it about me that attracts you?" he asked, his voice carrying the weight of genuine bewilderment. "I need to understand, Victoria. What draws you to me?"
The question hung between them, loaded with vulnerability and desperate curiosity. Victoria felt her heart clench at the raw honesty in his voice. Here was a successful, accomplished man asking her to explain his own worth and the fact that he genuinely didn't see what she saw in him only made her want him more.
Victoria's smile was immediate and predatory, her blue eyes sharpening with that aggressive confidence James still was learning to handle. To Victoria, this was familiar territory, explaining her reasoning, articulating her decisions, making her case. Except this time, the stakes were personal.
"Your confidence," she said without hesitation, her voice steady but charged with intensity. "You don't yield to me or easily cower before me like other men do. You challenge me, James. You stand your ground and meet me as an equal."
James stared at her, trying to process this insight into how she perceived him. Victoria could see him turning over her words, examining them from different angles like he would a complex business proposal.
He's beautiful when he thinks, Victoria realized, watching the way his brow furrowed slightly as he concentrated. The way he gives his full attention to understanding something completely.
Victoria leaned closer, her presence becoming more commanding, more intense. Still brimming with that predatory aggressiveness that seemed to be her natural state whenever she was near James, she found it hard to control the overwhelming feeling, which now fully focused on the man sitting beside her. She could feel the familiar rush of pursuing something she wanted, the thrill of the hunt that had driven her to almost irrational thoughts.
"If I wasn't emotionally invested in you, James," she continued, her voice taking on that lulled-edge quality that tends to show itself only when placating James, "why would I make such efforts? Why would I come here tonight, put myself in a vulnerable position, risk being rejected?"
The logic was undeniable, and Victoria could see James processing it, could watch as understanding began to dawn in his expression. But more than that, she could see the moment when he began to believe her, when the possibility that Victoria Sharp might actually want him became real rather than theoretical.
There, Victoria thought with satisfaction. Now he's beginning to understand.
Unable to hold back her feelings any longer, Victoria allowed her gaze to drop to James's mouth with laser focus. She had been thinking about his lips for weeks remembered exactly what those lips felt like against hers, soft yet firm, unresponsive yet tempting. The memory of their previous kisses sent heat racing through her veins, made her mouth water with anticipation. She'd been denied that sensation ever since James had issued his ultimatum and wondered whether kissing him would satisfy the hunger that had been building inside her or only make it worse.
God, I need to feel him finally respond to me, Victoria thought desperately.
Her tongue swept slowly across her bottom lip, the gesture deliberate and hungry. Victoria could feel the predatory part of her nature taking over, the part that had learned to take what it wanted rather than wait for permission. She felt like an animal that had been stalking its prey and was finally ready to strike, like someone who had been denying herself a feast and was now on the verge of devouring what she'd been craving. But James had changed the rules of engagement, had forced her to earn what she craved instead of simply taking it.
I want to taste him, Victoria thought, the desire so intense it was almost painful. I want him so bad.
The memory of how he'd tasted, how he'd remained still and unresponsive even as she'd kissed him, made her pulse race with need. She wanted to experience something different this time, the moment when his resolve would finally crack and he would give in to the desire she could see burning in his eyes, when he would actually kiss her back.
Her lips glistened in the soft lamplight as she wet them again, her breathing growing shallow with anticipation. She could feel saliva gathering in her mouth at the sight of him, could practically taste the kiss she'd been denied, could feel the phantom pressure of his mouth against hers from their previous encounters. The professional, controlled Victoria Sharp was nowhere to be found, replaced by something far more primal and honest.
"James," Victoria whispered, her voice rough with want as she leaned closer, her full concentration fixed on his pursed lips with an intensity that made her pulse race. Everything else in the apartment, the books, the wine glasses, the soft lighting, faded into background noise. There was only James and the space between them that was growing smaller with each passing second.
"Have I finally earned the right to kiss your lips?"