During the week, Taylor’s thoughts returned time and time again to her conversation with her brother after church on Sunday. Scott had come by the house, even taken her to church without even a token amount of protest. Taylor scowled, realizing it had been a setup.
“Mmm, these potatoes are really good, Sis,” he crooned.
Her fork hit the plate with a loud clank. “All right, spill it. What’s going on?”
The enticing aroma of collard greens, scalloped potatoes, baked ham and homemade buttermilk biscuits were ignored as she stared suspiciously at him. He was up to something.
The two generally spent their Sundays together, ending the evenings with a long distance call to their parents. Often, Jenna joined them, but today she was working on an upcoming term paper.
“I talked to a couple more scouts from the NBA,” he beamed, quite proud of himself.
“Are they supposed to bombard you like this?”
“Calm down, Sis. No one is forcing me into anything. This is a decision I have to make by myself. And as much as I love you, I have to do what I think is best for me and my future.”
“You are going to say yes, aren’t you? You’re going to submit your name to the draft in the spring, aren’t you?” she asked bluntly.
He nodded, his mouth suddenly tight with tension, while his deep-set eyes pleaded with her to understand.
“I see,” she said tightly, instantly furious. Donald’s face flashed through her thoughts. This was all his doing! Why couldn’t he stay out of it! Why couldn’t he see that what was good for him was not necessarily good for Scott?
“No, you don’t see. Taylor, you haven’t really given this a chance. Just because I want to postpone my classes until the off-season doesn’t mean I’m not going to graduate. A lot of the NBA players go back and finish. Donald did.”
She huffed. “I’d be willing to bet that most of them don’t ever finish. There are no guarantees in this life, kid. None. Remember, a fool is easily parted from his money,” she quipped.
“I’m going to get my degree, I promise you that,” he insisted, not pleased at her implication that he couldn’t take care of himself.
“Save your breath. You can’t do it for me; you have to do it for yourself. You’ll be giving up a full scholarship. How quickly you forget how hard you worked to get it. I remember.”
“I won’t be giving up a damn thing!” he snapped, then, realizing who he was speaking to, he said sheepishly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to swear. Sometimes, Sis, you make me plain crazy.”
Taylor couldn’t remain at the table a second longer. She jumped to her feet and moved to the living room, pacing in front of the picture window. No! This could not be happening. What could she say that she hadn’t already said before? How could she convince him he was making a huge mistake…a mistake that might affect his entire life? Why was he so blind? So plain mule headed?
“Taylor, I know you are upset, but…”
“Scott, you don’t know the half of it. What would happen if you were seriously injured on the floor? How would you take care of yourself? How long would the money last? A year? Maybe two? What would you have to fall back on?”
“I thought about it, decided it was worth the risk. The same thing could happen in my very next game. Then what would I have to fall back on?”
“You have your brain! An education! That is something no one can ever take away from you.”
“Why do you keep saying that? I am not planning on giving up my education! I’m just postponing it.”
“Why can’t you see what’s in front of your face? What if you are wrong? What then? It’s not as if you can get your scholarship back. Once it’s gone, there is no turning the clock back, kid.” She longed to shake some sense into his hard head.
“A couple of million can help not just me, but all of us. I can help Mama pay off Daddy’s medical bills. Get them a house of their own, then they can stop worrying about the rent in that apartment they have. I can help you so that you can stop working and can go to college full time. Don’t you think I know why you take only one class of your graduate work at a time? Money! It can help us all, not just me.”
Taylor’s heart softened somewhat due to his generous nature, but she held fast to her convictions. “Do you even remember the hardships black folks have endured over the years for the opportunity to have an education? It wasn’t uncommon for whole families to toil in the fields so that one person in that family could have an education. And everyone was so proud of that person. It means a lot to our people. It always has...it always will. Our people have given up their lives for the right to be educated. How can you turn your back on all that?
“If you don’t want to remember the history, think of our own family. Mama and Daddy have made so many sacrifices for us. It was a struggle for them to help me until I finished my degree. Then it was your turn and Daddy couldn’t work on at the plant. I don’t remember anyone in this family not willing to give you all the help you needed to get through. You, kiddo, are a joint effort. Mama and Daddy may not be here physically, but they are still working to make sure you have all you need, knucklehead!” She said tightly, “Speaking of Mama and Daddy, let’s see how they feel about your decision.”
Their meal was forgotten on the dining room table. He grabbed her wrist before she could pick up the telephone on the side table in the living room.
“Wait!” he scowled, turning away from her too-sharp gaze.
“Why not? Haven’t you told them?”
“No! I wanted to tell you first.”
The two had always been close, able to talk to each other about anything. After sharing a house and having only themselves to depend on, they understood each other.
“And?”
“I need your help on this one. If you are on my side, they are bound to understand.”
“I don’t believe you said that,” she said without hesitation. Although it hurt her to her heart for she had always supported him, been there for him, she said it anyway, “No, Scott. Not this time.”
Scott was crushed. He looked away from her. She was the one who had been willing to care for him, thus allowing him to remain at home and finish school here in Detroit rather than having to follow their parents south. He wanted her approval, longed to have her in his corner.
“This has not been an easy decision for me or even a quick one. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, even before Coach mentioned it. Meeting Donald was the clincher for me. I’ve admired him for years. He’s not only a strong player, but he’s got his head on straight. I want to be like him.”
Taylor didn’t want to hear Donald’s name, she didn’t want to even think about Donald. She didn’t want to recall how it felt to be in his arms. A couple of days had not diminished his appeal. She had a feeling that two weeks, two months, possibly two years would not change her intense reaction to the man. His virility and masculine charm had her thinking about him each and every night before she closed her eyes.
No matter how attractive she found him, he would be the one responsible for ruining her brother’s life unless she could convince Donald that he was wrong. She didn’t have to date him to do that. They just needed to talk.
“Why can’t you take my side in this?”
“I think you are making a terrible mistake. I can’t stand back and not try to stop you.”
It would all work out. If anyone could talk some sense into her brother, it would be Donald. There was still time. He said he wanted to quit school. Then, let him face some of the ramifications for this rash decision. She picked up the telephone and started dialing. The receiver was picked up on the second ring.
“Hi, Mama. How are you and Daddy? Oh, he had a good week. Great! Hold on, Scott has something he wants to tell you.” Taylor handed him the telephone refusing to be swayed by the mulish set of his face.
She sank onto the sofa, crossing her legs and folding her arms beneath her breasts. Her entire body was taut with tension. She only half listened to her brother’s side of the conversation. Her mind was on the man who was never far from her thoughts. How could she have responded so naturally to his closeness? When they were on the dance floor she automatically followed his smooth easy movements. He was so at ease with his body. It felt as if they had been dancing together for years. Their bodies came together so effortlessly.
At five feet, ten inches, there weren’t very many men she could look up to, especially in heels. Donald was such a man. What had been really disturbing was how wonderful it felt to be surrounded by his hard male length. She found herself closing her eyes, imagining the two of them were on a moonlit beach making love, her body open to his. She trembled with feminine need.
She’d only had one lover and he had betrayed her trust. She had learned her lesson well when it came to risking her heart. She’d heard about him. She would be foolish to jeopardize her happiness by becoming involved with another womanizer. Donald was a man who had unlimited females at his disposal. Whether he admitted it or not, he attracted women the way flowers attracted bees. He had a raw sexuality that was positively lethal to a woman’s well being.
Thank goodness, he was not the man for her. The only reason he was attracted to her was because she hadn’t fallen all over him. Women probably made fools of themselves over him on a daily basis. She, no doubt, was a refreshing change.
She would be making a serious mistake if she took his interest as more than casual curiosity. Surprisingly, the roses had not stopped coming even though she had agreed to see him again. Well, that would soon change. He would have no choice but to give up on her romantically once he realized that she really didn’t want to date him, but was only interested in talking to him on her brother’s behalf. Could she do it? Could she convince him to help?
“Here, Daddy wants to speak to you.” Scott shoved the telephone at her. Before she could do more than lift it to her ear, he had slammed the front door behind him.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“What has gotten into that boy?”
“I wish I knew. I’ve been trying to talk him out of this for weeks. I’ve run out of words. I don’t know what to say to convince him.”
“You keep trying, baby. He’s making a mistake. He only has his family to make him see reason. Mama and I will call soon. You take care. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Taylor whispered as she hung up the telephone.
She had been twenty-three and Scott fifteen when their parents had been forced to move to a climate conducive to their father’s asthma. Although they both missed them terribly, Taylor hadn’t been the least bit reluctant to take on the responsibility of a teenager. It had worked out well. As was their custom, they had driven down to spend the Christmas holidays with their folks.
It seemed to Taylor that the latest trend in the NBA was to take guys younger and younger. A few kids were given this difficult decision when they were fresh out of high school. What chance did they have of making a wise choice? Eighteen and nineteen year olds were trying to decide something that could negatively affect their entire life. Scott had such potential. He could easily become a brilliant research chemist, perhaps own his own pharmaceutical company some day. If becoming an NBA player was so important to him, then he could do that as well. All he needed was two years to get his undergraduate degree. Two years!
As Taylor cleared the dining room table, she decided that she had been wrong to agree to date Donald. At the very least, he deserved an explanation. She wasn’t a coward. She simply would not go out with the man. Her first loyalty should belong to her family…not to a man she wasn’t even sure she liked. They didn’t really know each other and she didn’t plan on giving him an opportunity.
Taylor tried time and time again to get her brother to change his mind. Nothing was working. She enlisted Jenna’s help to persuade Scott. It didn’t work. She was crushed when she learned that Scott went ahead and submitted his name into the NBA draft. But she hadn’t given up. She told herself there was still time. Until the day he signed his contract, she would not give up.
The situation with Scott didn’t help ease her resentment toward Donald one little bit. As the night of her so-called date with Donald approached, Taylor continued to hope that he would call and she could solve the matter over the telephone. It would be so much easier that way.
By Friday, she was on edge the entire day, her eyes constantly going to the clock. As the evening approached, she reassured herself over and over again that when he left, he would be leaving without her.
So why then couldn’t she forget how he looked? Or how it felt to be in his arms? Or how she had become so easily lost in the depth of his dark eyes? His voice was deep, seductive. She could not deny her attraction to him, no matter how hard she tried. Nor could she prevent herself from imagining how deeply satisfying it would be to be on the receiving end of his kisses. Kisses!
What was her problem? How could she forget even for a minute that he was all wrong for her? She wanted a man who could provide a lifetime of stability and love. A man who was not afraid to make a commitment. Most important, a man she could trust with her heart...with her love. Any way she looked at it, Donald was not that man. She would ask for his help with her brother…nothing more.
If she were dressing for an evening out, Taylor would have chosen a cream silk sheath that clung lovingly in all the right places but left her torso exquisitely clothed. She would have chosen the pearl and diamond earrings her parents had given her for her college graduation. Her thick black hair would be styled to curl around her shoulders. She would have worn very little makeup: a touch of caramel foundation to smooth out her coloring…highlight the cheekbones with a deep rose blush. She would have chosen charcoal gray eye shadow and a deep rose lipstick. Taylor had done none of these things.
She was dressed in jeans and a red turtleneck sweater she had changed into after work. When the doorbell sounded at seven she had to use the legs of her jeans to dry her clammy hands. There was nothing she could do about her stomach; it was a mass of butterflies.
“Hello. Come in, please.” Taylor caught her breath at the sight of his long dark length. He was gorgeous in a three-piece dark blue, custom-made Italian suit. His shirt was pristine white, his silk tie navy and white stripe. His warm manly scent was as provocative as he was.
“Hey, beautiful,” he smiled easily. “Uh-oh, one of us is overdressed. I thought we’d eat at the Whitney. You prefer something less formal?” he asked casually, his eyes drinking in her soft, queen-size beauty. Would he ever get used to the way she affected him? One long glance and he was hard and ready…ready to make her his. Anyway he looked at it, he craved her sweetness.
“I’d hoped we could stay here and talk. I had no way of contacting you in order to let you know,” she said quickly, before she lost her nerve.
He shrugged. “I've been on the road. Even if you had the number of the condo you wouldn’t have been able to reach me. But I’d be happy to give you the number for my cellular phone,” he said, warning himself not to get too close, not to touch her no matter how innocently. One kiss and he’d be lost.
“You don’t mind?” She was surprised.
“Not at all. We can always order in. Pizza, Chinese, whatever you like.” He was relieved. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had canceled. Nevertheless, he’d been looking forward to spending time with her. Where they were didn’t matter to him. Besides, he had a good idea what she wanted to talk to him about. He hadn’t fooled himself into thinking she’d done a complete about-face. She wanted something from him. That was nothing new. It was something he had come to expect from women.
“You’re really accommodating,” she said suspiciously.
Donald laughed, a deep throatily sound that had nothing to do with humor, more to do with sarcasm. “Just realistic. What do you want?”
Taylor glared at him through the thickness of her lashes. She couldn’t dispute his claim. What was the point? “Come on in. Have a seat.”
Donald left his overcoat on a brass hook in the foyer before entering the living room. He casually unbuttoned his suit coat and vest, glanced around the living room before he made himself comfortable on the sofa, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. “I think it is only fair to be honest with you. I don’t want a romantic involvement with you. But I do need your help.”
“I don’t believe that anymore than you do. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you don’t think I am looking at you. You may not want to be interested, but you are.”
“Didn’t it even dawn on you that you could be wrong? There are a few of us not killing ourselves to go out with you!”
When he remained silent, but quirked a brow at her reminding her that she was the one asking for his help, Taylor sat down, crossing her legs and arms tightly.
“Mind if I order dinner?”
“No.”
“Preferences?”
She shook her head no, deciding to calm her temper and start using a little common sense. There was no point in antagonizing the man.
Spotting the yellow pages on the side table, he grabbed it and began flipping through the pages. Without another word, he took a cellular telephone from his inside jacket pocket and began punching numbers, all the while Taylor looked on with a frown marring her lovely face. “Yeah, please send over two large pepperoni and green pepper pizzas. Do you carry salad or pop? Great!” With his hand over the mouthpiece, he said,
“Taylor?”
“That’s fine.”
He went on to give her address. “Thanks,” he ended, disconnected the call. His eyes leisurely traveled over her soft red-tinted mouth, with the upper lip fuller than the bottom, before he pulled his hungry gaze away. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. On the back he wrote out his home and cellular numbers. He rose slowly from the sofa and dropped his jacket over the back of an armchair before he caught her hand and gently tugged her down with him to the sofa. He left his card on the coffee table.
Once they were seated side by side, he asked curiously, “So tell me what’s wrong, Taylor? What’s happened to upset you enough to ask for my help?” His voice deepened even more as he studied her small brown features.
Her eyes glinted with temper, while Taylor raised her chin indignantly. “I haven’t asked yet.” There was no point in pretending she wasn’t furious. Besides, she did not believe in playacting. It was a waste of time. She blurted out, “My brother has entered the NBA draft. I’m sure you know all about it.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t spoken to Scott about it one way or the other. Why blame me, sweetness?”
“My name is Taylor.”
“It should be sweetness,” he crooned, softly, seductively, his dark eyes on her mouth. If he didn’t get a taste of her soon…Donald swallowed with difficulty, his voice heavy with arousal, when he said, “I don’t want to talk about your brother. I have other things on my mind.”
Too stunned to move, Taylor’s heart raced as his lips stroked over hers as lightly and gently as a breath of fresh air. He teased their soft fullness until her lips parted, opening under his.
Donald growled low in his throat, unable to resist the allure of the sweet interior. His tongue slid over her incredibly soft mouth, licking the top lip before returning to sponge the bottom, then slowly teasing the corner before dipping inside. He groaned his enjoyment, finally able to taste her sweet essence as he stroked her velvety soft tongue with his.
“Taylor,” he whispered, blood, hot and heavy rushing through his system. “So sweet,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
Taylor knew she was lost, lost to everything outside of the firm warmth of his masculine lips. “Mmm,” he tasted good, too good. His wide deep chest was so appealing, she found herself pressing close against him, her soft full breasts flush against him as she inhaled his incredibly pleasing male scent.
“No!” Taylor said, suddenly pushing herself out of his arms. She was shaking all over. She told herself it was a result of anger, not feminine longing. Yet, the tips of her breasts had peaked, aching for his attention.
It took Donald longer to recover. His need was keen and unmistakable. He wanted her, wanted to make love to her. But then that was nothing new. He’d been hungry for Taylor since the instant he’d laid eyes on her in the restaurant.
For quite some time he had done without rather than dealing with the kind of women who threw themselves at him. He had sense enough to know it was not really him they wanted. They wanted the wealth and status he could easily provide. He was not willing to be a trophy for some selfish woman’s mantel. Now, suddenly, all of that longing, all of that need that he had kept buried deep inside of him centered on this one special woman: Taylor. It had not been planned. It had just happened. And there was nothing he could do about it.
She had scrambled to her feet, determined to put as much space as possible between them. “You had no right!”
“Perhaps I should apologize for rushing you. I don’t feel the least bit sorry. The truth is, I find you extremely attractive.”
“Look, I appreciate your…”
“The trouble is that we don’t know each other. Give us a chance, Taylor. What can it hurt?”
“It could hurt me,” she longed to shout at him. She would be the one with the broken heart if she were careless enough to get involved with a man like him. There was nothing ordinary about him. He commanded attention wherever he went. He could have any woman he wanted. He didn’t even know her. She wasn’t even certain that he wanted her in his life. Oh, she believed that he wanted her sexually. When the next tempting beauty came along, he would be on the prowl once again.
The only reason he wanted her was because she was unavailable. If she actually agreed to his terms, he would tire of her in no time. He might be able to have any woman he chose, but he could not have her.
“I know all I need to know about you. I’m not looking for Mr. Super-Jock. That’s someone else’s fantasy, not mine.”
“Great. Because I am not Mr. Super Jock. I’m a man, nothing more, nothing less. And you are the woman I want to get to know much better. All I ask is that you give me the opportunity.”
“Look, I need your help to convince my brother he is making a mistake. I didn’t invite your lovemaking.”
He stared at her before be said, “I kissed you. I didn’t make love to you. Believe me when I say there is a difference.”
Taylor swallowed with difficulty before she said, “Scott values your opinion. With your help he might decide to stay in school. You can’t tell me every new rookie is successful. There have to be some that, prove to be too young to handle professional ball.”
“You’re right. I can’t say that. But Scott isn’t immature. I think he can handle it. Taylor, this is his decision. He has to decide for himself. This choice is not mine or yours.” He hated the hurt he saw in her eyes. “Taylor…”
“You didn’t even consider what I said.”
“Yes, I did. But, honey, he is a man. Let him stand on his own two feet. Don’t baby him.”
Before she could say more, the doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival of their meal. Within a very short, time they were set up in the living room, each equipped with a plate and utensils.
She was determined to concentrate on her food, rather than her disappointment or the masculine charm that seem to radiate from the man beside her. She would look up and find his eyes on her as he quietly ate.
He had downed several slices of pizza and a large helping of salad before he asked, “Why have you decided to work at the University’s computer lab rather than in the business? With your degree in Computer Science you have a lot of options.”
At her arched brow, he merely smiled while waiting patiently for her answer, as if he had all the time in the world.
Taylor found she had to force herself to look away from the seductive warmth of his smile. Instead she concentrated on using her napkin to wipe her trembling-fingers and hide her nervousness. She knew that he had gotten most of his information about her from her big mouth brother. The rest had come from meeting her boss and friends at the NAACP dinner.
“Some day, I hope to teach computer classes on the college level. Working in the lab is good experience for me.”
“Are you in grad school?”
“Yes, I’m working on my master’s.”
He heard her small sigh and wondered about it. “Hard going?”
“Impatience. It’s taking longer than I expected,” she found herself confessing. “Not that I mind helping my brother—because I don’t. Classes are so expensive these days. I can’t afford more than one class each term.”
“I thought Scott was on a full scholarship?”
“He is. But there are so many expenses that it takes the entire family’s help in order to handle it. We are not an affluent family. My parents were able to put me through college. Unfortunately, my dad became ill and was no longer able to work.” She frowned, realizing how candid she had been with his family the other night. There was no way she could be so open about her personal life unless she felt comfortable with them…with him.
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad. How’s he doing now?”
“Much better. The warmer weather agrees with him.”
“You’re very lucky to have come from such a loyal and supportive family,” he said softly. “I think that is why so many kids get off to a bad start.”
Taylor nodded. “I think you’re right.”
Donald smiled genuinely hopeful that, for the first time, she was seeing him as a man.
“Was it a hardship for you taking on the responsibility of a teenage boy?”
She shook her head. “I was lucky. Scott has always been a hard-working, determined kid. Besides, even though our parents were no longer here in the city, we still had their emotional support to fall back on. There has never been any doubt of their love.”
Donald nodded, leaning back against the back of the sofa. Now that one appetite was appeased, he recognized that he had others when it came to Taylor. She fascinated him. He found himself doing something he hadn’t done in a long time. He relaxed in her company.
“I’ve been very fortunate. That’s one of the reasons why I feel it’s so important for someone in my position to give back to the community,” he said candidly.
“Is it true you are working with Charles Randol and Dexter Washington to expand the Malcolm X Center throughout the city?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Do you know of Charles and Dex’s work?”
Taylor laughed, unaware of how enchanting she was to the man studying her. “Scott benefited from the center. I didn’t want him getting in with the wrong crowd. The center was the answer. He had contact with kids who wanted more for themselves than what the streets had to offer. Tell me about your work in Chicago?”
“I started the sports camp during the summer while I was in New York. But by the time I moved to Chicago I realized that a few weeks in the summer was not enough. With the help of my teammates, we were able to implement a year-round sports camp.”
Taylor found herself listening intently to his plans for expanding on the concept across the country including Detroit. He told her about his business dinner with Dexter and the Randols. His enthusiasm was evident. She liked the fact that, even though he was a very busy and highly successful man, he still found time to help others.
“How did you and Charles meet?”
“In Washington during the Million Man March. It is hard to believe that more than a year has passed since that momentous event.” He went on to tell her why he felt it was so important that black men become involved in saving black boys by teaching them what it is to be a man. It had nothing to do with producing babies.
Donald was so enthused by her open, easy manner that he risked arousing her animosity by asking, “Why aren’t you involved with someone? Do you resent all men or is it just me?”
Taylor stiffened. “Are you deliberately trying to antagonize me?”
“That’s the last thing I’m hoping to do. What I would like to do is get to know you. The fastest way to do that is by being direct. When it comes to my personal life I don’t believe in playing games.”
“If you’re asking if I date, the answer is yes. If the question is, am I serious about any one man the answer is no. Why did you…”
“I think you know the answer to that one.” He didn’t even try to hide the hint of possessiveness in his voice. “You’re more than welcome to ask me anything you like. In fact, you don’t even have to ask, I’ll tell you. No, I’m not seeing anyone. I’m not engaged nor am I married,” he volunteered.
“Why are you being so candid?” Her soft brown eyes focused on his generously shaped mouth.
He was in his shirtsleeves and those were rolled up, baring his muscular lower arms.
They were seated side by side, their feet propped on the coffee table, stereo playing in the background.
He moved so fast she did not have time to prepare for the shock of finding herself seated across his thighs. His breath, warm on her neck, caused shivers of awareness to dance down her spine.
“I don’t know what it is about you, Taylor, but I can’t think of anything I want more than having you in my life.”
She wiggled in his lap, trying to get up. He held her still because she was driving him wild with sexual hunger and he did not need any help in that department. He was extremely aware of her closeness, her sweet magic.
“Let me up,” she insisted.
“Why? Are you uncomfortable?”
“You know why,” she whispered, cognizant of him in her every pore. She didn’t like the feeling. No…that was not entirely true. She adored the feelings because she felt so feminine, so aware of his masculinity but it made her much too vulnerable. The vulnerability was something she was not interested in exploring.
“Relax,” he said huskily, moving a soothing hand over her shoulders and down her back. He relished the feel of her in his arms. He couldn’t imagine anything he would enjoy more than being in bed with her, his body deep inside of hers. Imagining being surrounded by her sweet, damp heat had him throbbing with desire. Donald swallowed a deep, husky groan.
“Why me?” she asked seriously, needing to know.
Donald chuckled, a deep throaty sound. “Surely you know the answer to that?”
She shook her head, causing her cottony soft hair to caress his throat. “I’d like to know.”
“I find you extremely attractive. Don’t you dare tell me you’re surprised. I am not stupid. I’ve no doubts that you have your choice of men.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I count myself lucky that you’re not involved at this time.”
“Mmm,” was all she was willing to say on the subject. She unwittingly relaxed against his chest. He was so solidly built and he smelled so good.
“That’s your response?”
“That’s it.”
He chuckled. “Taylor, all I ask is that you give us a chance.” When she would have spoken he pressed his fingertips against her soft pretty mouth. “Sleep on it. I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can go out for a late dinner after the game on Sunday?”
He eased her up so that he could rise, then caught her hand and pulled her loosely into his arms, only for a moment, before he picked up his vest and suit jacket, putting both on. From his pocket he pulled out three tickets. “I hope you and Scott, perhaps a friend of his, can make the game.”
“Thank you, but…”
Donald pressed his lips briefly over hers and then gently stroked his thumb along the soft flesh along her jaw. “Until Sunday,” he whispered, placing a lingering kiss on her mouth. He wanted so much, so much more than those few tender kisses. He was hungry for the taste of her.
He wisely pulled back, reminding himself he had to be patient. He had to give her time to get used to him, to believe in his sincerity. Taylor was more than worth the wait. He never let himself believe that he might not succeed. He was not prepared to let her walk out of his life, not without a fight.