Moonlight Over Manhattan(75)
Harriet laughed. “That’s it. That’s what my sister does. How do you handle it?”
“Sometimes I’ll play along with it for the duration of the phone call because I love my sister. If it happens too often, I’m rude.”
“Does that work?”
“Nothing works for long. Sometimes I end the call. If I’m desperate, I pretend I have to go save a life. Don’t ever tell her that or I won’t examine your ankle next time you leap out of a window.”
“So who was the last woman she wanted to fix you up with?”
There was a pause. “You.”
Harriet stared at him, stunned. “She—what? Oh, that’s awful. Now I’m even more embarrassed.”
“Why is it awful? She thinks you’re the perfect person to cure me of my wicked bachelor ways and heal my supposedly bruised heart. It’s one hell of a brief for any woman, even one who likes a challenge.”
“Is your heart bruised?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I haven’t been able to find it in a while.”
She wondered how he could possibly think he didn’t have a heart when she saw evidence of his kindness and caring all the time.
“That’s why she wanted me to come and walk Madi?” A horrible thought occurred to her. “Karen really did have an accident? The whole thing wasn’t an elaborate setup?”
“It wasn’t a setup. My sister is an opportunist, not a sadist. And she’s an excellent mother.”
“So did she leave you alone when you told her you weren’t interested?”
He finished his wine and put the glass down slowly. “Who said I wasn’t interested?”
Her heart suddenly doubled its rhythm and her limbs felt as if they’d been turned to liquid. “You. You said you weren’t interested in women.”
“That’s not what I said. I said I wasn’t interested in marrying a second time. Not quite the same thing. I’m not a monk, Harriet.” He sounded amused. “I have relationships. Just not the kind that end in marriage. And that’s the kind you’re hoping for.”
Right now she was willing to take any kind if he featured in the starring role.
She wanted to ask if he’d be interested in a relationship if all she wanted was wild, passionate sex.
Was that a bit ambitious? Did she even know how to have wild, passionate sex?
She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to relax and let go enough to ever find out.
Except that with him, she thought she might. He was capable and kind, strong and sure, and she found him sexier than any man she’d ever met. Being with him made her feel something she’d never felt before, and she liked it. He made her feel interesting, feminine, fun. He made her feel alive.
His gaze met hers and she felt a streak of longing, a burst of blind lust that obliterated all other thoughts and feelings. All the sounds around them faded to nothing. There was just him, and the way he made her feel. She realized she’d underestimated the power of sexual attraction. Or maybe she’d just never felt it before. Not like this. This shivery, delicious thrill. The stomach-knotting sense of anticipation that turned need into desperation.
One thing was sure—after tonight, it was going to be even harder to go on a bad date because now she knew what a good one looked like.
“Let’s get out of here.” His voice was rough and connected with something deep inside her.
She had no idea what they were going to do once they left the restaurant, but whatever it was she was going with it. The decision was made without her even being conscious that she’d made it.
If this was the only date with him she was ever going to have, she was going to make it a night to remember.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THEY TOOK A cab back to her apartment.
Although she kept her eyes fixed ahead, he could feel her tension. She was so still she barely seemed to be breathing.
Wondering if she was nervous, he reached out and covered her hand, closing his gloved fingers around hers.
She sent him a glance that told him she wasn’t nervous. He’d expected indecision and doubt, but there was no sign of either and everything he saw in her eyes made him want her even more than he already did.
The evening hadn’t exactly gone the way he’d planned. As for what happened next—
He’d intended to see her safely to her door and then leave. That would have been the safe, sensible thing to do but when they reached the front door of her apartment building she turned to him.
There was something in her eyes he hadn’t expected to see. A challenge. He wasn’t sure if she was challenging herself or him.
“Do you want to come in?” She sounded breathless, as if they’d both sprinted the length of Fifth Avenue instead of cruising in the warmth of a cab.
Did he want to go in with her? The answer was yes, but whether he should was a different question altogether.
What was she thinking?
What was going on in her head?
It was snowing again, and he reached out and brushed the flakes from her hair. Had he ever felt temptation like this? If he had he couldn’t remember it. Selfish and single-minded, Alison had called him. And maybe it was true, because he was about to be selfish again. “You’re not the sort to invite a man in after a first date.”