Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(18)

The things he’d said on the sidewalk after she’d recognized him came back to her.

Leaning forward, she turned down the stereo. “Did you honestly think I would have canceled our date if I remembered you based on nothing more than how you looked and your lack of popularity back in school?”

“Well, it killed your interest pretty danged quick, didn’t it?” He cranked the volume back up, louder this time.

“No, it didn’t.” She punched the music off completely. Staring at him, she realized the opposite was true. With her defenses lowering back to normal, curiosity snuck in. “If anything, I’m more interested.”

“Yeah, right.” He snorted.

“I’m more interested because look at what you’ve become.” She gestured toward him. “Not just how you look, but the fact that you’ve made something of your life without having it handed to you. How many of those stupid jerks who snubbed you can claim the same?”

“You mean your friends?” he sneered.

His bitterness stung. Did he lump her in with that self-absorbed crowd who thought not having a date to the homecoming game was a life crisis? Try being twelve and fending for yourself because your mother dashed off to join her married lover on his “business trip,” she’d wanted to tell those girls. Or fourteen with budding breasts that draw a little too much attention from your mother’s newest husband.

“They weren’t my friends,” she said, looking away.

The softly spoken words caught Luc off guard. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She seemed somehow smaller, and oddly vulnerable. “Then… why are you so mad?”

“Because you misled me.” She turned to him. “Intentionally.”

“I was going to tell you.” He squirmed a bit. “I just couldn’t figure out when and how to do it without turning you off.”

“You’re that convinced I wouldn’t go out with a man because of how he’d dressed as a teenager? How shallow would that make me?”

“You’re not shallow.” He’d always sensed a complexity in her that other girls her age had lacked.

“How do you know?” she asked, with a challenging lift of her chin. “You don’t know me any more than I know you. Not really.”

He opened his mouth, hesitated, then ventured cautiously. “I’d like to.”

She tilted her head, considering. “Maybe I’d like that, too.”

Neither of them spoke as he drove over the bridge to Pearl Island. By the time he parked before her cottage, hope had joined the less savory emotions churning in his stomach. Quiet descended when he shut off the engine.

“So…” He paused, building up his courage. “Are you saying you’d consider going out with me again?”

“I might.” A smile tugged at her lips. “Why don’t you walk me to my door and ask?”

His heart bumped against his ribs. Holy cow, was she going to let him kiss her goodnight?

“I could do that.” Trying to look calm, he climbed out of the car, and nearly tripped. When she didn’t climb out as well, he realized she wanted him to open her car door. He hurried around the hood to do it.

“Thank you,” she said, extending her hand.

Pleasure raced through him as he helped her from the car. Her hand felt warm and slender in his. To his delight, she didn’t let go, so they walked hand in hand up the steps.

Anticipation and nerves built as they stopped in front of her door and stood facing each other. Was he supposed to say something? Do something? Wait for her to do something?

Amusement flirted with the edge of her mouth, as if she sensed his quandary. “In case you’re wondering,” she said with a hint of humor, “I had a good time this evening.”

Her comment made him feel like he’d landed in a game of Jeopardy, where the answer came before the question. Idiot, he told himself. You were supposed to ask if she had a good time—despite the fact that you deceived her for most of the evening.

“I, um.” He cleared his throat. “Me too. Had a good time, that is.”

“I’m glad.” She tipped her face up and the porch light sparkled in her eyes as she laid her free hand on his cheek.

Just like that, his brain clicked off and he stopped thinking. He just did it. He kissed her.

His lips pressed hers in a ridiculously chaste kiss that nonetheless made his pulse spike. Then, oh yeah, she softened against him, tipping her head for a better angle. Their mouths brushed in a way that sent heat roaring through his whole system. He wanted more. He wanted to taste her. Needed to taste her. His tongue flicked out, touching her lips, questioning. Her lips parted in answer, and with the next breath his tongue was inside her mouth.

God, she tasted so good. He wanted to devour her. Letting himself go, his mouth and tongue played with hers. He felt her arms go around his neck. Her body moved forward so her breasts made light contact with his chest. It wasn’t enough. He wrapped his arms around the small of her back, and pulled her all the way against him. Her soft, full breasts molded against his hard chest. Her belly pressed against his groin. The instant it did, he went from semi-aroused to rock hard. Having her in his arms felt so freaking good, he lowered one of his hands to her bottom, and pressed her more tightly against him.

With a moan, her head tipped back, breaking the glorious contact of their mouths. Deprived of her lips, he trailed kisses down her delicious neck. Her pulse throbbed against his lips. He wanted to suckle her there, and leave his mark.