“Fuck!” He dropped the steaming bag on the counter and shook his fingers. “Shit!”

Allie clasped her hand over her mouth to contain her giggle. She watched Hudson pick up the offending bag with a napkin and then straightened in her seat so as not to be discovered. He’d just made it to their row when he halted midstride and made a quick U-turn back to the concession area. She heard the sound of a refrigerator door open and then close, and a moment later he was back at her side.

“Had a feeling you’d ask for this next,” he said, holding out a can of Diet Coke.

She took the can from him, genuinely concerned but unable to hide her smile. “Are you okay?”

“Nothing a skin graft won’t fix,” he grumbled, tearing open the bag and offering her some of the popcorn.

Allie helped herself to a handful, then turned her attention back to the movie in time to catch one of her favorite shots of the handsome Will Turner.

“I don’t see the appeal,” Hudson said.

She rolled her eyes and reached back into the bag of popcorn. “You’re a guy, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me. It’s the leather pants, isn’t it?”

She whipped her head around to look at him. “Why, do you have a pair?”

He grinned. “No, but consider it my first order of business.”

His arm draped across Allie’s shoulders once again, only this time she snuggled against him. For the next two hours Allie watched sword fights between pirates and skeletons while Hudson continued his amorous assault. One step forward, two steps backs. He was relentless and she loved every minute of it.

The moment the credits rolled she was tugged across his lap. His mouth found hers and he kissed her fiercely. As if he had to. As if the past one hundred and forty-three minutes had been the longest of his life. And despite her game, she kissed him back.

Her fingers wound into his hair, holding him close as he deepened the kiss. His hand slid over her bare thigh and she felt the prod of his erection digging into her behind. He gripped her waist, shifting her so she straddled him, and with a flex of his hips pressed himself against her. Oh yes, just like that.

His lips moved lower, nibbling her neck, and she let her head fall back on a soft moan as he flexed up once more. She closed her eyes, reveling in the delicious friction as he slowly rubbed her through the worn denim of his jeans. If he kept it up, she’d be reaching for his fly in no time. It would be so easy. A few popped buttons, a subtle shift of her hips . . .

“Hudson?”

“Hmm?” he answered against her skin.

“What’s for dinner?”

He lifted his head. “Dinner? Now?”

“Yes.” She tried her hardest to keep a straight face. “Movie dates usually include dinner.”

“Christ, woman, you’re making my balls bluer than you did ten years ago.” He flashed her a hopeful grin that made him look every bit the horny teen she remembered. “Can we eat in bed?”

She laughed. “In bed? On a first date?”

The noise he made was somewhere between animal and human. “Way past first dates, Allie.” Moving her off his lap, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Any place that will deliver in thirty minutes or less.”

Chapter Nineteen

Allie couldn’t remember the last time she had pizza for dinner. She lifted a second slice out of the cardboard box and took a bite. Mmm, delicious. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, and when she opened them Hudson was staring at her, one brow slightly raised.

“No placemats, plates, or fine silver? When did you become the type to eat straight out of the box?”

“Are you forgetting the picnics we used to have when your shift was over?” Eating greasy food out of takeout cartons was something Allie had never done before she met Hudson. In fact, she’d done a lot of things with him that were outside her norm. And yet, they always felt so right.

“That was a long time ago.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

“And what about you? When did you become the type to wear a suit and tie every day?”

Hudson reached for the nearly empty bottle of merlot and split the remainder between their two glasses. “I’m still not, but Wall Street continues to equate success with the ability to strangle oneself with a five-hundred-dollar tie.” He leaned against the back of the barstool and took a sip of his wine. “All part of a strategic and well-crafted game.”

“One you obviously play quite well. This place is amazing. I can’t believe you have a movie theater upstairs.” She narrowed her eyes at him as she reached for her glass. “What else do you have hidden behind closed doors?”

Hudson leaned closer, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and dropped a kiss to her lips. “Eat up and I’ll show you.”

When they finished eating, Allie followed him to the foyer. “The study you’ve already seen, as with my bedroom.” He smirked at her before gesturing to a split staircase. “Downstairs are guest rooms, a gym, and staff quarters. But the rooms upstairs are my favorite.”

She took his offered hand as he led her up the same staircase they’d taken on their way to the theater. Only this time they continued farther down the wide hallway, affording her a full view of the artwork she’d been so curious to see. The paintings she passed were bold, brightly colored abstracts with heavy textured strokes, a few of which she was sure she’d seen hanging in the Art Institute at one time.

Halfway down the hall Hudson paused in front of a set of carved wood doors standing at least ten feet tall. “This,” he said, pushing them open, “was Hefner’s office.”

The room took Allie’s breath away. A ceiling that soared upwards of fifteen feet with elaborate plaster designs; walls that were covered in recessed mahogany panels; a herringbone wood floor polished to a glossy shine; a limestone fireplace flanked by leather wingback chairs; and velvet drapes framing French doors that led to a stone terrace with potted palms. The entire room looked to be in its original 1920s condition. It was as if she’d stepped out of the Palmolive building and straight into the pages of The Great Gatsby. She was so enthralled by her surroundings that it took a few moments for Hudson’s words to register.

“Wait, did you say Hefner’s office?”

He nodded. “Fully restored.”

“What . . . how?”

“This was his office when he launched his magazine in the fifties. A few years later he opened his first club here as well.”

Allie gaped at him. “You live in the Playboy Club?”

“Yes. Interested in wearing a bunny outfit, Miss Sinclair?”

She smiled coyly. “Particular fantasy of yours, Mr. Chase?”

“Second only to Princess Leia’s gold bikini.” He flashed her a heart-stopping, panty-dropping grin, and in that moment she was quite sure he could talk her into wearing either if it meant his hands and mouth touching her. “Come,” he said as if reading her mind. “There’s more.”

He led her to the very end of the hallway and yet another set of double doors. “This is my favorite room of all.” Allie didn’t think anything could top the room she’d just seen. But then Hudson swung the door open and she realized she’d been wrong. “The game room,” he said.

Allie whistled through her teeth. “Quite the man cave you have here.”

Like the previous room, this one was decorated in warm, rich colors. Dark hammer beams spanned the vaulted ceiling, spaced every six feet or so with trusses that came down to meet the walls where they divided the arched, floor-to-ceiling windows. Travertine tiles were covered with thick oriental rugs, and a large pool table sat front and center. Allie’s hand trailed along the table’s red baize as she admired the intricate bevels on the amber light fixture hanging above it.