“Hi, honey. Is everything okay?” Slouched in a corner on his cell phone, Nick looked around the huge foyer of the Syracuse Law Library buzzing with activity.
“Yes, Daddy, we’re fine.” Heather’s voice was soft and sweet, as usual. “Mrs. Castellana made supper and I cleaned up. She just put Jason to bed.”
“Did you eat enough?” he asked, trying to mask his concern. She had been eating more, and sleeping a little better in the last few days, though she still stayed up late in her room.
“Yes, Dad.” Teenage exasperation seeped through.
“All right, I’ll be home in half an hour.”
“Great, I’ll wait up.” Her enthusiasm reached clear across the phone lines.
He clicked off, closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the wall. His presence at home nights had made a difference already. He’d never forget the joy on Heather’s face when he’d told her he was giving up his job at Corelli’s for a few months. Winning the lottery couldn’t have come close to causing that look.
As he walked the few feet to where he’d dropped his things, he realized again how right Amanda had been last week. And just thinking about her made his gut clench. Damn, he’d really blown it.
After he’d left her house that night, he’d thought long and hard about her warnings about his daughter. And in the subsequent days, he couldn’t ignore the way Heather prowled around late at night and how she picked at her food. The crying had been the worst. He’d tried talking to her, but it didn’t help. Frustrated and frightened, he’d taken steps to spend more time at home. She really did need him. Why hadn’t he done this before?
Because you are a first-class jerk, DiMarco, he told himself as he sank into a chair in the corner and wearily rubbed his hand over his face. That had never been clearer to him than when he told Amanda he wasn’t sure they could make things work between them. He knew how much her response to him had meant to her; he also knew she’d begun to care for him. Yet, he’d left the relationship in limbo because of his fears that he was getting into another fiasco like the one he’d had with Suzanne.
But Amanda hadn’t backed down about Heather. She’d done precisely what she said she’d do: she’d asked him to put Heather’s welfare before his personal conflict over her. God, that made him feel like a heel, that she had to ask him to do that. Closing his eyes again, he could see her standing proudly before him, her jaw clenched, pleading her case for Heather.
“Hello, Nick.” It was Amanda’s soft voice.
Oh great, DiMarco, now you’re imagining she’s here.
But when he opened his eyes, she stood before him, not a vision, but a very real woman whose flesh made the blood pump double time through his veins.
Sitting up quickly, he smiled. “Mandy, what are you doing here?”
Her eyes flickered with pleasure before she doused it. He’d inadvertently used the nickname that meant so much to her. “I’m meeting someone. I saw you on the phone and wanted to talk a minute.”
“Sure, sit down.” He gestured to the empty chair beside him
Amanda glanced around and shook her head. “No, I can’t. I just wanted to tell you how pleased I am that you’re spending more time with Heather this week. She really appreciates it.” Her voice trembled and Nick’s pulse rate accelerated with the hope that she was as affected by their meeting as he was. He stood up to be closer to her.
She looked so sad, though, he wanted to kiss away the anguish he’d caused. Instead, he jammed his hands into the pockets of his tan corduroy pants. “You were right,” he said hoarsely.
Nodding, she asked, “How did you manage it?”
“Beth, of course. I borrowed some money from her. She doesn’t see it as a loan, though. She says she owes me for helping to pay for her college and graduate school, years ago. She was only too glad to help out.”
“But it still hurts your pride.”
“Yeah, but my pride’s gotten me nowhere in the last few weeks.” He looked meaningfully at her and plunged in. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about what I said the other night. It wasn’t—”
Refusing to let him finish, Amanda shook her head. “No, Nick, it’s okay. I took too much for granted. The relationship was just more important to me because...” She trailed off, her face turning red.
He reached out and grasped her arm gently. “No, no, you’ve got it all wr—”
“Hello, darling.” The smooth male voice interrupted what he was about to confess. It belonged to a blond man who wrapped his arm around Amanda’s waist, drawing her away from Nick. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
What the hell? Nick thought. Then he recognized the guy from the restaurant the night he’d waited on their table.
“Craig,” Amanda said woodenly.
Dressed in an Italian suit like the lawyers at Joris wore, silk shirt and tie, the guy looked from Amanda to Nick with narrowed eyes. He took in Nick’s cords and fisherman-knit sweater with disdain. The man’s gold watch winked in the light as he drew Amanda closer. “I’m Craig Coleman. Amanda’s fiancé.”
The words hit Nick like a bomb exploding mere inches away. To shield himself from the fallout, he backed up a step. He schooled his features to reveal none of his shock or pain. “I’m Nick DiMarco. Ms. Carson is my daughter’s counselor.”
Dismissing Nick with a nod, Coleman let Amanda go. “I’ll just grab the books I need and meet you here. Don’t dawdle, Amanda,” he said with one last glance at the two of them.
Nick clenched his hands into fists to control his anger. When Coleman was out of sight, he pulled Amanda by the arm her into an anteroom that served as a small sitting area. He closed the door for a modicum of privacy.
“What were you doing, just amusing yourself with me? And I was just about to apologize for the other night. God, I’m a fool. I’ve been agonizing over what I said to you for seven days running, wishing I could take it back.” He pivoted and stared at her. “Damn you!”
Amanda’s emotions were careening out of control as she stared at Nick prowling furiously before her. First, she’d been startled by his explosive anger when he pulled her into the private room. But then she’d focused on the rest of his tirade. He cared. Somewhere deep inside herself, she’d suspected he would regret his words the other night. But then he hadn’t called and she’d lost hope. Now, to hear him declare it aloud, even if it was in anger, thrilled her.
“Are you laughing at me?” he asked incredulously.
Amanda realized she must be smiling. She shook her head, the grin remaining in place. “No, Nick, I’m just pleased about what you said.”
By now he was so angry he was practically sputtering. “You’ve got gall, lady.”
She grasped the bulky material of his sleeve. “I hope I do, but I don’t have a fiancé.”
He searched her face, his gray eyes wary. “That’s not what Coleman says.”
“Craig is a pompous, overbearing ass.”
“Nice choice in men.”
Again, Amanda laughed, feeling freer than she’d felt in a long time. On impulse, she ran her hand up the sleeve of Nick’s sweater to lightly stroke his neck. Involuntarily, he leaned into the caress. She reveled in the feminine power she had over him, even though he was still very angry.
“He’s not my choice of men. He’s my parents’ pick. After I broke up with Porter, my father tried to replace him with a clone.” Amanda giggled at her insulting remark. “I’ve refused the engagement all along, but no one listens. See, no ring.” She held up slender fingers and Nick stared unblinkingly at them.
He took her hand, his eyes darkening to the color of stormy skies. “Coleman doesn’t seem to understand that.”
“That’s why I asked to see him tonight. This charade has gone on long enough.”
“Good.” Nick gave her a satisfied grin and caressed her palm. “And I meant what I said, Mandy. I’m sorry for what I told you the other night. I reacted out of disappointment and stupid male pride.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
Slowly, Nick raised his hand and slid his fingers into her hair. “Tell me he hasn’t touched you. Not since I have, anyway.”
The breath whooshed out of her at his seductive tone. Every muscle tingled and her lower body went liquid with that unique woman-to-man response. “He hasn’t touched me, Nick.”
She pulled away then, opened the door and took three steps out. But she returned, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.
“Make sure he understands how things are, tonight.”
“I will.”
o0o
On the tenth anniversary of Suzanne Sullivan’s desertion, Amanda met with Heather for a private counseling session. They sat together in the small office on adjacent chairs. The wind was whipping around outside but the counseling suite was warm and cozy.
The teenager fidgeted with her books, looked around the room and chewed on the end of her pencil. “The group last Friday was heavy. I felt really bad for all the kids.”
Recognizing the delay tactic, Amanda crossed her legs and folded her hands, temporarily allowing the evasion. “Was it upsetting to you?” When Heather nodded, Amanda asked her to elaborate.
“I felt so sorry for Sandi. Her mother doing drugs again so soon.” There was genuine sympathy in the teenager’s voice, no jealousy that at least Sandi had a mother.
Amanda marveled at Heather’s selflessness, yet it was also part of her problem. “You like Sandi, don’t you?”
Flipping through the pages of her spiral notebook, Heather didn’t look at the counselor. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“She likes me. And I know how she feels sometimes. Inside.”
Amanda sat forward, listening as Heather continued to talk.
“I like Matt and Ron, too, but Ron’s joke bothered me.” Heather rose from her chair and walked over to the bookshelf. She fingered several tomes nervously. “Jason would think it was funny, why the cemetery was so crowded because people were dying to get in.”
“But you didn’t?”
“If anybody else told it I would. But not Ron. Every joke he tells is about death. It’s almost as creepy as his coming to school on Halloween as the Grim Reaper.”
Amanda shuddered at the image and hugged herself to ward off the chill. All the seniors dressed up for Halloween and some of the costumes were very imaginative. She could still recall a hooded Ron gliding down the hall carrying a scythe, the embodiment of death itself.
Resolutely, she turned the conversation to Heather. “How is today feeling for you?”
Heather blanched. She picked up a book and paged through it, refusing to meet Amanda’s eyes. “Fine. Really, I didn’t mean to make such a big deal out of today.”
“But I think it’s a big deal.” When Heather didn’t respond, Amanda continued, “Wouldn’t it be better to tell me about these feelings you have all bottled up inside?”
Heather’s eyes were anguished but she nodded in agreement. Yet she seemed unable to begin.
“Come and sit down, Heather.” When the girl obeyed, Amanda asked, “How do you know this is the anniversary of the day your mother left?”
Heather stared at her for long tense seconds before she answered. “I told you before, sometimes I listen late at night when Daddy talks with Aunt Beth.” Her face flushed at the confession and she wrung her hands. “You won’t tell him, will you?”
“Of course not,” Amanda assured her. “When did you find all this out?”
“Two years ago.”
Oh, Lord, and you’ve carried it around by yourself all that time. “How does it make you feel?”
Heather waited a moment. Then it was as if a dam burst and the words flooded out. Like a swimmer caught in the current, she was unable to stop the flow. “How could she just do that, just leave Jason when he was a tiny baby? And make Daddy take care of him. Doesn’t she know that someday Jason is going to put this all together and think it’s his fault? Which it isn’t.”
In the course of her outburst, Heather’s words rose in pitch until she was shouting. Her hands trembled and her voice shook. It was the first time she’d shown any reaction but crying.
Scooting forward on her chair, Amanda clasped Heather’s frigid hands between hers and cut right to the quick. “What about you? How were you hurt?”
The girl recoiled and then stared blankly at Amanda with wounded eyes. But she didn’t answer.
“Heather?” Amanda knew she had to hurt in order to heal. “Aren’t you mad at your mother?”
The teenager seemed to go into a trance. Amanda rubbed Heather’s hands for a moment, then let them go and sat back. She’d seen this reaction in the past, when she’d interned at the Teen Crisis Center. The staff had a term for it, the CBS, the “calm before the storm.” So she waited it out. She said nothing, she didn’t move, she barely even breathed.
After a good minute, tears began to course down Heather’s cheeks, color returned to them and her breathing picked up. “All right. Yes, I’m mad at her. I hate her. Why would she do this to us? What kind of woman is she? Why couldn’t she just love us enough to stay? What did I do to make her go?”
Moving off her seat, Amanda crouched before Heather. “Look at me.” When the teenager did, Amanda brushed the pale hair from Heather’s face. “What you’ve said so far is true except that last thing. You didn’t make her go. Your brother may very well blame himself at some point. But he’d be just as wrong as you are to take responsibility for this. There’s only one person responsible here, honey. Your mother, Suzanne Sullivan.”
Heather gripped her hands together, her face chalk white. “Then why did she leave?”
“I don’t know. But maybe you can find out.”
The teenager stilled. “No! I can’t. I can’t ask him. I can’t talk to him about this. Not yet.”
Amanda’s heart caught in her throat at the last two words. Not yet. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity was watching over this family. Heather had gone from absolute refusal to postponement. It was a step in the right direction.
Thirty minutes later, when Heather was composed and even animated—a common aftermath of such an important catharsis—Nick knocked on the office door. When Amanda called for him to come in, he entered whistling. His eyes shone brightly and he looked less tired, less stressed than any time she’d seen him in the past.
“Hello, ladies.” He smiled at his daughter and ruffled her hair. When he peered at her closely, he asked, “Are you all right, honey?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
His eyes lingered on Heather, then briefly sought Amanda’s. When she shook her head slightly to indicate he shouldn’t probe further, he nodded. “Ms. Carson. You’re looking well.”
“So are you. Good day?”
“Yep. I studied all morning for my last exam and then I made the DiMarcos’ secret-recipe sauce. I was hoping Heather might want to invite you to sample it tonight.”
Heather’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Amanda knew she couldn’t decline the invitation, even if she’d wanted to. She glared knowingly at Nick.
You don’t play fair, she said to him silently.
You bet I don’t. Remember that, he answered with his eyes.
o0o
An hour later, Amanda sat at the DiMarco kitchen table across from Heather and Jason. The kids had set it with a red-and-white-checked tablecloth and stuck a candle in a wine bottle. They’d dimmed the lights and dished out the salad. Nick set spaghetti and meatballs in front of her with a cold beer. He was having a one so she asked for the same. His after-shave invaded her senses and his breath was warm on the sensitive skin of her ear as he leaned close. His closeness made her pulse leap. “This looks delicious.”
“What do you call a grumpy cat?” Jason asked, drawing her attention to him.
Nick pulled back from Amanda and said with mock exasperation, “Oh, no, please, Jase. Not again.”
“Last one, Dad, I promise. Well?” The boy impatiently tapped his fork on the table.
Amanda smiled at him “Sourpuss.”
Jason’s impish eyes widened, then crinkled with respect. “Wow, you figured that out all by yourself?”
“Wish I had, kiddo. But one of the guys at school told me.”
As they ate, Heather was unusually talkative, mentioning the basketball game at school that night and a new friend she’d met. Jason was his typical chatterbox self. Amanda enjoyed their company and tried not to think of the sullen meals she and Lisa had endured.
Nick sat next to her, and every time she glanced in his direction, he gave her a meaningful grin, an arched eyebrow and, once, an incredibly sexy wink. By the time the meal was over, Amanda was half-aroused by just his intimate looks.
A timid voice broke her absorption. Heather had begun to clear the table, but poised with her dish in the air, looking hopefully at Nick. “Daddy, could we go to the basketball game at school tonight?”
“What time does it start?”
She glanced at the clock and frowned. “In a half an hour. I guess it’s too late.”
Jason jumped in. “Geez, Dad, Heather never asks for anything. Couldn’t we go?”
Scanning the kitchen that was strewn with pots and pans, he said frowned. “We’ve got to clean up.”
The light went out in Heather’s eyes. Jason’s gaze narrowed on his father. Seeing Nick’s scowl, Amanda intervened. “We could clean up afterward. I’ll come back and help.”
Nick stared at her blankly. She’d forgotten his proclivity to neatness.
But Heather hadn’t. “No, that’s okay. Why don’t you three go on in and play Monopoly and I’ll clean up.” She turned to face Amanda. “The sauce makes too much mess when it stands around. And Daddy doesn’t...” Her voice trailed off.
When Nick glanced briefly at Amanda, she saw pain flicker in his eyes. Then he looked at his daughter, who was trying to mollify everyone, and at his disappointed son. “Daddy doesn’t want anyone to miss out on the game, sweetheart. We’ll put water in the pans and the dishes can wait.”
Both children’s jaws dropped at their father’s uncharacteristic behavior. But Jason rebounded fast and took off for the other room. “Way to go, Dad. Last one ready to leave has to scrub the pots when we get back.”
o0o
They took first-row seats at the basketball game so they could accommodate Jason’s wheelchair on the floor next to them. As the players warmed up, Nick could still see the expression in Amanda’s eyes when he’d agreed to come to the game. She’d stared at him with such respect, such admiration, that he’d found himself wanting, no, needing, to keep that look there forever.
Not good, DiMarco.
Trying to shake off the gloomy thought, he turned his attention to the action on the floor. Next to him, he heard Amanda explain the starting jump to Heather and why one basket counted two points and another racked up three.
“How do you know so much about this?” Jason asked her.
Amanda grinned sheepishly and pointed to the floor. “See those girls in the short skirts there?”
“The cheerleaders?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone, but I used to do that.”
Nick glanced down at her legs, which were exposed beneath a knee-length, slim denim skirt. “A sight to behold, I’m sure.” His gaze traveled up her body and his mind flashed to what she might have on underneath the blue striped shirt and navy cardigan.
As if she knew the direction of his thoughts, Amanda blushed. Nick wanted to grab her hand, but he didn’t. He had no rights to Ms. Carson, school counselor.
At halftime, Heather went to get some candy for herself and Jason. Then a group of teenagers paraded past them.
“Hey, Ms. C., nice to see you here,” one good-looking boy called to her.
She smiled warmly at him. “Thanks, Jake. You, too.”
“Ms. Carson, I love your hair like that.” This from a girl with several piercings who whipped by her. “I’ll remember that, Carly.” The pleasure on Amanda’s face was genuine.
Nick sat back and observed the scenarios. This vision of her as a respected, well-liked counselor was in direct opposition to the impression he’d had when they first met. Then, he’d seen her as a debutante. Now, he was ashamed by his blatant stereotyping.
The feeling intensified a few moments later when his daughter came speeding back, breathless. “Ms. Carson, you’ve got to come. It’s Matt. He’s in trouble. He’s gonna fight...”
In a flash, Amanda was off the bench and out the door before Nick even realized what had happened.
Heather’s face was colorless. “Go with her, Dad, please. They’ve got knives.”
“Stay with Jase,” he ordered and bolted after Amanda.
A crowd of kids had gathered in the dim hallway. He elbowed his way through in time to see Amanda standing next to the vice principal, Tom Mannerly, each facing one of the combatants. The boys loomed over her. They were about seventeen, muscular and very, very angry. Both were holding knives. One was higher than a kite, if Nick guessed correctly.
He watched as Amanda glanced at the two boys then at the gathering crowd. She spotted two security guards and pulled one aside, speaking quietly to him. In moments, they began to clear the area of spectators. Smart woman, Nick thought. These kids would never surrender in front of an audience.
Easing into a doorway, Nick shielded himself from the guards.
The principal was talking. “Back off, Chico.”
“No way, man. He called me dickhead.” The boy in question gripped the switchblade tighter.
The other boy’s eyes narrowed on Chico and he fingered the handle of his knife. “Yeah, you prick. Sandi told you to get lost. Something wrong with your stupid hearing?”
“The weapons have to go, guys,” Mannerly said calmly. “Particularly for you, Chico. You’re on thin ice from the last fight. Any more trouble like this and you’re out of school for good.” The man’s voice was even, but Nick could see the vein throbbing in his neck.
Amanda’s face was flushed, but she turned to the first boy with assurance. “Chico, I don’t know you, but I do know Matt. If you two go after each other now, you’ll both be expelled for having weapons on school property. What’s more, you’ll probably be seriously hurt. If I get Matt to stop this, will you?”
Chico raked her with insolent eyes. “What’s it to you, lady?”
Fists clenched, Nick was ready to spring. But some intuition about Amanda’s need to handle this herself held him back.
“I’m Matt’s counselor and I care about him.”
The teenager looked her up and down, his eyes glassy and wild. Indicating the vice principal with a toss of his head, he asked, “What’ll the dude do if we stop now?”
“Since no one attacked, you’ll only be suspended for a few days.”
“Ms. Carson’s right,” Mannerly told them. “We can end this right now with minor repercussions.”
Chico glared at the adults, then looked beyond them as if noticing for the first time that he’d lost his audience. That seemed to tip the balance. “Fuck it, why not?” Then he tilted his chin at Matt. “Get him to back down first.”
Quickly Amanda turned to Matt, who had bristled at Chico’s words, back down. She moved directly between the two boys, right in the path of Matt’s knife. “Give it to me, Matt.”
Cold green eyes stared over her shoulder at Chico for several tense seconds. Nick watched as they then focused on Amanda and warmed several degrees. But Matt said nothing.
“I want you to do this, Matt.” Amanda’s tone was implacable.
The boy held his aggressive stance for a moment longer, then his whole body slackened. “Sure. He pulled his first. I don’t care about this crap. Just so he leaves Sandi alone.”
“He will, Matt. We’ll see to it.”
The incident was over soon after that. Nick watched, openmouthed, as Amanda accepted the knife from Matt and the vice principal took the weapon from the other boy. Mannerly led Chico to his office while Amanda pulled Matt to one side and began to speak softly to him. She looked at the boy intently, and soothed his arm with her slender fingers. Matt shook his head and even smiled at something she said before he went off with one of the security guards.
Nick and Amanda were left alone. He felt fear, anger, respect and admiration simultaneously. As she walked across the hall, he realized she was trembling. “You okay?”
“Yes. Aftermath of the adrenaline spike, I guess.”
“That was quite a feat you pulled off.”
“It was, wasn’t it? I never would have believed I could do it, Nick.”
He wanted to shake her for endangering herself, and hold her and tell her how much he admired her courage.
Instead, he raised his hand and stroked the side of her face with his knuckles. “Well, you did, Mandy. And all by yourself.”
“Thanks for not pulling some macho rescue. I needed to do this alone.”
“Yeah, I figured that. Don’t think I didn’t want to, though. God, Amanda, I wanted to whisk you away from those knives.” His tone softened. “And I could kiss you for your cool, calm reasoning.”
Her eyes glowed at his praise. “Well, that gives me food for thought.”
Unfortunately, it gave him the same thing. And the conclusions he came to as he digested the events of the evening frightened him. Not only was Amanda sexy and desirable, but she was strong and savvy. It was easier to keep his feelings in check when he could view her as shallow and superficial. Easier to remember they came from different worlds and had a questionable future together. But, tonight, in a hallway of Eastside High, she had seemed very much a part of his world.
True to her promise, she came back to the apartment after the game and cleaned up as he put his children to bed. The kids had been full of questions all the way home and had wanted her to tuck them in before she left. Nick knew they both wanted to assure themselves that she was all right.
Just as walking her to the car when she was ready to leave and easing in beside her filled a need he had.
“Shall I turn on the heat?” she asked innocently.
Nick didn’t answer. Seized by remnants of the fear he’d felt earlier, he pulled her to him and took her lips with his. He clasped her to him too tightly, wanting to meld her body with his. After a moment, he eased up a bit and trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck and sucked lightly. Her moan triggered a response deep in his gut.
When he pulled back and she peered up him, his eyes captured hers. “I need to be close to you tonight, Mandy. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s because of the danger you were in earlier. Maybe it’s because I didn’t expect you to...never mind.” He lifted his hand to her navy wool coat and parted it. He eased each button apart, drinking in what his touch had bared. “Ah, you’re beautiful, exactly as I knew you would be.” Slowly, he lowered his head and placed his wet tongue on her cleavage. He licked her gently. “Front closure, a woman after my own heart.” He didn’t ask permission this time. He just flicked open her undergarment and she spilled into his waiting palms. “Jesus, I must be dreaming,” he whispered as he felt her swell into his hand. “You fit me so well.”
“Oh, Nick, that feels so good. I didn’t know. It’s the first time I’ve really wanted...”
Leaning over and tracing the outline of her ear with his tongue, Nick’s grin was all male. “You’ve wanted what, sweetheart?” He felt her tremble. When he drew back, he looked in her eyes and saw her swallow convulsively. “Tell me.”
Though she blushed an appealing shade of pink, her tone was confident when she answered him. “I want you to touch me. Everywhere.”
He groaned. He couldn’t help it. Sea blue eyes met silver ones and he admitted, “Do you know what hearing you say that does to me?”
“Yes, I think so.” A smile as old as time itself touched her lips and she looked down his front.
He lowered his head and opened his mouth over one pouting peak. She started off the seat as if she’d never felt the sensation before. It made him more voracious. After a moment, he transferred his attention to her other breast. She raised her hand to his neck and fastened it there, as if afraid he would stop and the feeling would be gone, as if she couldn’t count on him to continue.
“I want to touch you, too,” she whispered into the darkness.
Reluctantly, he left her breast and lifted his eyes to hers. He took her hand and placed it over his heart, which lurched at even that innocent caress.
“I want that, too, sweetheart. But this isn’t the right place. We need to make some time for us. To have some lengthy privacy.”
Burying her face in his neck, she nodded.
“Not afraid anymore?” he asked.
She raised her head and met his gaze unflinchingly. “No, not anymore. Not with you.”
“We’ll take it slow, anyway.” Stroking her hair, he said, “I’m going to enjoy every second of helping you to discover just how responsive this delectable body is.” Pausing meaningfully, he added, “To me.”
He extricated himself from her, helped her right her clothes, kissed her soundly on the mouth and left the car. I’ll have to be careful I don’t lose myself in her. Or trust what’s between us too much.
But after what he’d witnessed tonight, he knew he was in grave danger of doing both.