All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(39)

“Why should Charlie do anything for you? Because you gave birth to her? Does she owe you for that?”

“It’s what children do.”

“And what do parents do?”

Dominique clutched the saucer in one hand and the cup in the other. She thought of all the movies where parents read to their children and played with them. Of Dan laughing with Chantal, tucking her in at night. She remembered Chantal bringing home a report card with a few A’s on it and presenting it proudly. Dan had carried her on his shoulders and then put it on the refrigerator. Dominique had been busy with an interview.

She wanted to say that Chantal should care about her because of who she was. But the truth was the fans had all gone home a long time ago and when she’d been admitted to the hospital, the only people who had visited were those who worked for her.

She had nowhere to go and no one to truly care if she died tomorrow.

She put down her tea and faced May. “Pretend I’m from another planet and I’ve never seen parents and children together. Tell me what I need to do so that I can be Chantal’s mother.”

* * *

“CHAMPAGNE IS a classic for a reason,” Clay said, pouring them each a glass.

Charlie eyed the liquid suspiciously. “You’re trying to get me drunk?”

“If I wanted you drunk, I would have suggested tequila shooters. This is romantic.”

Clay had shown up, as promised. This was their second lesson and she found herself even more nervous than she had been before.

Maybe it was the fact that they’d had an appointment. That had meant her thinking about what they might or might not do, which didn’t make her burger from lunch sit very well at all. If she was tortured for three or four days, she might be willing to admit that some of her nerves came from anticipation. Because what had happened last time had been better than she’d expected. And every time she thought about them kissing, she got a little jolt. Or she had until he’d walked into her place.

Now she was just nauseous.

They sat on her sofa, in the living room. Although this was her place, she found herself uncomfortable. As if she didn’t belong. She was all arms and legs, with nowhere to put them. Crap and double crap. She wanted to jump to her feet and tell him that she’d changed her mind. Only she hadn’t and there was no way she was going to let fear win.

Holding in a sigh, she accepted the glass he offered and took a sip. The champagne was light and bubbly, without being too sweet. She didn’t recognize the name on the label and wondered if it was expensive. Not that this was a date or anything, so there was no reason for him to spring for the good stuff.

She stared at him. “Should I reimburse you for that?” she asked, pointing to the champagne. “I didn’t mean for you to have expenses.”

One eyebrow rose. “No.”

“But this is like a business deal.”

“No.”

She waited. “You’re not going to say anything else?”

“On that subject? Unlikely.”

“You’re amazingly difficult.”

He smiled. “Part of my charm. Drink up.”

“Drink up? That’s your idea of romance?”

He laughed and put his arm around her. “You’re feisty. I like that.”

She found herself leaning against him as he leaned against the sofa. He was warm and strong and the situation was less awkward than she would have thought.

“Feisty? That’s what you call a spitting kitten. I’m a whole lot more dangerous than that.”

“Not to me.”

She glanced up at him, for once not the least bit concerned about how close he was. “I can be tough.”

“You keep bragging, but I haven’t seen any action.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re all talk, Charlie. Admit it.”

She started to sit up but the arm around her tightened, holding her in place.

“I’m willing to prove it,” she grumbled. “When and where? I’ll be there.”

Instead of responding, he took the glass of champagne from her hand, set it on the table next to him, then lowered his head to hers and kissed her.

The movement was unexpected. One second she’d been ready to take him on and the next she was getting lost in the feel of his mouth on hers. The transition was seamless, shifting her from play to desire in a single heartbeat. There was no time for apprehension, no place for fear. The memory of their previous kisses had her relaxing into his embrace.

As he had before, he kept the kiss easy and light. He moved his lips back and forth, teasing, promising, allowing her to settle in to what they were doing. She shifted a little, angling toward him, then wrapping her arms around his neck.

She was aware of heat low in her belly. Of sensations growing, and a melting sort of fiery tingling. Her br**sts began to ache. Arousal, she thought hazily. She sort of remembered this happening years before. Back in high school. Before the attack.

But while the memory of the rape was still floating around, it seemed less significant than it had. With Clay, she was safe. She knew that. So when his tongue lightly touched her bottom lip, she parted for him.

He slipped inside and she welcomed him with strokes and circles. She settled into the growing sense of need, welcoming the awakening of her body.

He continued to kiss her deeply. She was aware that he was holding himself slightly away from her, not touching his body to hers. Not letting his weight make her feel trapped.