Chapter 9

Nine

SARA

The soundof my alarm radio echoed into Jen’s room, stirring me awake. I took a pillow and placed it over my head.

Jen called from the kitchen. “Sara, you plan on shutting that damn thing off?”

Oh, c’mon. Can’t a girl get some sleep around here?

“Sara!”

“All right already,” I grumbled.

Is it really time to get up?

With one eye open, I glanced at her clock—six-thirty a.m.

Ah, crap.

With a growl, I sat up and planted my stubborn legs on the rug. I sat there, eyes partly glued shut, refusing to accept it was morning, my brows pinched in denial. I palmed my face as I stood up and marched across the living room to my bedroom. I slammed my hand down on the alarm clock as it was about to blast again. Like a soldier being shipped off to war and forced to leave his lover behind, I stared at my bed with sodden eyes.

“Trust me, I wish it wasn’t so,” I told my fluffy mattress.

Showered and dressed, as I got ready to head out, I caught sight of Tom’s leather jacket sitting on my chaise. Memories of the previous night made me swell with delight. I couldn’t wait to see him again.

In the kitchen, Jen packed her lunch.

“Morning,” I said as I reached inside the fridge for a bottled fruit smoothie. She barely looked at me.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“You know what.”

“You’re still mad about last night? I thought we talked about it.”

“I’m not mad, but you broke the code. That’s serious. I don’t care how hot or steamy a guy is.”

“I get it. I screwed up. We don’t have to keep having this conversation.”

She looked up, her gaze brimming with concern. “What’s so special about this one?”

I shrugged, unable to give her a straight answer. “I guess…when I first saw him, a heavy weight settled over my heart. There was this connection, an invisible tether pulling me to him.” I paused before continuing. “I don’t know. I’m just rambling.”

“I’ll tell you what the problem is. Your hoo-ha has cobwebs.”

“Excuse me?”

Hands on her hips, she raised an eyebrow.

I puffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. I could use some action. Can’t deny there’s a serious physical attraction, but that’s not all, Jen. I’m talking about something deeper.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing anymore.”

“I didn’t.”

“So, now you do?”

“I thought you wanted me to date. Whatever happened to me needing someone to take care of me?” I replied, mocking her words.

“I don’t want you getting hurt. You’ve just met him and already you sound head over heels for this guy. Not everything that shines is gold, you know.”

I blinked. “Did you just use a cliché on me?”

She shrugged.

“Look, I know what I’m doing,” I reassured her. “I don’t plan on making the same mistakes all over again. Trust me.”

“I’m sorry for being difficult. I love you, and I can’t help it if I worry.”

I walked around the kitchen counter and gave her a hug. “You don’t need to worry about anything.” I grabbed a banana and turned to leave. “I’m running late. I’ll call you later.”

“Bye, Googly-Eyes,” she teased, laughing.

* * *

Work was swamped. We were hosting auditions for new dancers and Rebecca made me coordinate the entire thing. I sat at my desk sorting through email when my cell phone buzzed.

Unknown:You didn’t stop for coffee this morning.

Me: Who’s this?

Unknown:You forgot about me already. Crying emoji.

Me:Who’s this?

Unknown:Am I that unmemorable?

Me: Depends on who you are…

Unknown:Your Knight in Shining Armor

A smile split my face.

Me: Didn’t realize you’d memorized my number.

Unknown:Blushing emoji

An even bigger smile carved across my cheeks.

Me:So, what’s up?

Unknown:You have my jacket.

Me:You gave it to me

Unknown:I only parted with it because you looked so unbelievably adorable in it. Smiley face with heart eyes.

Me:Well, in that case, maybe I’ll keep it.

Unknown:Or maybe, you’ll go out to dinner with me tonight.

Me:Was this your plan all along?

Unknown:What if it was?

Me:Then I like the way you scheme.

Unknown:Pick you up at eight. Can’t wait to see you. Winky face.

A few days ago, I was googly-eyed over this guy in a silk suit, and now, here he was, sending me emojis.

Did that really happen?

I read the texts over and over again and couldn’t stop grinning.

* * *

There were about fifteen dancers from around the world auditioning for a spot in the company. I walked backstage making sure everyone was ready and the music properly queued. The dancers were nervous, each of them encased in their own respected corners, stretching, practicing their sequences.

This was their moment, the culmination of all their years of hard work and determination. Out there, a dancer’s body and soul became the music. We feel it in our blood. It’s what fuels our existence. Upstage, I watched a young girl, probably not much younger than me, she was beautiful and graceful. Her body was petite, muscular, but lithe. My muscles twitched as I gazed at her movement—an upper back arch, a yield and push, x-rolls. A smile crept onto my face as I thought back to my days at Juilliard. For a brief moment, I was her and life raced through my veins.

“Places, everyone.” The director’s voice startled me out of my daydream.

Rebecca sat front and center with Alexei at her side. “Let’s begin,” she commanded.

My job was done. I exited backstage and headed to the auditorium. I could have stayed and watched, but my heart couldn’t stomach it. It had been four years since I quit Juilliard, and four years since I gave up dance completely. The emotional wounds from the past still felt fresh every time I gazed up at that stage and those dancers. Becoming a contemporary dancer had been my only dream, but when my mother died, things changed.

I changed.

Before everything happened, dancing was the only thing that mattered to me. I possessed raw talent, promise. They told me I would be a star one day, and I believed every word they said. The biggest audition of my entire dance career was slated for the day after a major snow storm was predicted to hit the city. I was up north in Cape Cod with my mother and sister, visiting grandmother for the holidays, when we heard of the bad weather threatening to assail the tristate area.

I should have listened to my mother when she told me not to drive that night. I was selfish and reckless. The weather people always exaggerate, I told her. It was the greatest opportunity to dance for one of New York’s most prestigious companies. There was no chance I’d miss it because of a little snow.

Turned out to be the harshest mistake of my life. Not to mention it should have been just me in the car that night. But who was I to argue with my mother? I inherited my stubbornness from her. And I paid dearly for it. Overcoming the injuries to my spine was a harrowing ordeal. Still, it wasn’t what kept me from setting foot on stage.

Guilt. Shame. Regret. They were the deadly trio vice gripping my heart and crippling my soul. I was a shell of who I used to be. Without my mother, I lost my motivation, and without that, I lost my ability to dance.

As I reached my office and closed the door behind me, I pressed my back against the solid wood, hoping to shut out the sorrow trudging behind me on my way back from the auditorium. How much longer would I be able to ignore it? How much longer could I go on without facing the demons lurking in the shadows? I’d kept my past buried, yet somehow, within the last few days, those dreadful memories seemed to be escaping from their tomb.

I wiped tears bubbling at the corners of my eyes and sucked in a deep breath, stifling the ocean of pain pushing against the walls of my heart. Everything in that place was a constant reminder of my failures, but in the end, I could never purge my body of the desire to dance.

Five o’clock couldn’t have come fast enough. I bolted out of the studio not a minute later. On my way, I texted Tom.

Me:Charming, what should I wear to the ball tonight?

Tom:Your attire is being freshly delivered to your humble abode.

Me:That’s awfully presumptions of you. How do you know I’ll like it?

Tom:Trust me. You’re gonna love it.

I wasn’t sure if I should have been delighted I was being lavished with a gift or insulted he didn’t think I owned an appropriate evening dress.

Ah, screw it.

After not being on a single date in eons, it was time I let myself be wined and dined. Not to mention, dressed. At five-fifty, when I walked into the lobby of my building, Pedro greeted me with a nervous smile. He wiped corn muffin crumbs off his trimmed beard and off his navy-blue uniform. His dark eyes lit up as soon as he saw me, creases forming at the corners of his skin.

“Good evening, Ms. Hart.” He quickly wiped his hands on his pants.

“Good evening, Pedro.”

“A package arrived for you.” He ran his hands through his thick block of charcoal-colored hair before reaching behind the desk and grabbing a white, medium-size square box tied with black ribbon. He fumbled for the tag attached. “It’s from a…Mr. Charming?”

I smirked and reached for the box. It was heavier than it should be for just a dress. I wondered what other surprise Charming had in store for me that evening.

“Thank you, Pedro. I’m expecting a visitor around eight.”

“Okay, Ms. Hart.”

In the elevator, my hands twitched with excitement. Being swayed by lavish gifts? Pre-Mr. Iced Double, I probably would have scoffed at the presumptuous gesture, but holding the soft box wrapped in delicate ribbon had me feeling exceptionally regarded and I died to look inside.

Jen hadn’t arrived home from work, and welcoming the privacy, I dropped my tote on the floor by the entrance, flung my keys on the kitchen counter then kicked my shoes off my feet. By the time I made it to my room, my heart pounded so fast my hands were sweaty. Not wanting to ruin the delicate package, I uncoiled the ribbon and opened the box with gentle fingers.

Wrapped in red satiny material was a pair of exquisite Park & Cliff four-inch heel, black Sicilian lace, peep-toe pumps.

Geez. A pair of these probably cost him more than my entire wardrobe.

Deeper in the box, I found a marvelous Geena Salvatore black, short, strapless, lace dress. It was absolutely stunning and likely twice as expensive as the shoes. I never dreamed one of her dresses would be wrapped around my body. I peeked at the size—four. How did he know?

I found a pair of black satin panties in my drawer, and after scrambling to find a strapless bra, I decided to borrow one of Jen’s. The dress caressed every curve as if custom made. His taste was remarkable, and I wondered what else he could possibly have in store for me. I tingled with anticipation and couldn’t remember the last time my heart fluttered inside my chest like a caged bird.

At eight on the dot, my phone buzzed.

Tom:Your carriage awaits. Don’t keep me waiting.

Me:Be right down.

In the elevator, I texted Jen.

Me:Got a date with Iced Double tonight. Don’t wait up.

Jen:Have fun!

When the elevator opened, my breath caught. Charming leaned on the front desk, talking to Pedro. He looked dapper in tailored black pants and matching blazer. Underneath, he wore a crisp white button-down and no tie. My lips parted with an inward breath. Pedro spotted me and nodded to Tom. When he looked at me, his jaw dropped before he glided over to meet me.

“Sara.”

“Tom.”

He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on my right cheek, feathering his lips against the corner of my mouth. He let the kiss linger and softly brushed his mouth close to my ear. “You are absolutely enchanting in that dress.”

His breath ignited my skin, his intoxicating scent making me woozy.

Tom pulled away but stood close and presented me with a single red rose he had been holding behind his back.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He turned to his side and put his left arm out for me. “Shall we, my lady?”

I laughed at the continuing joke and hooked my arm around his and let him guide me to the exit. Tom nodded at Pedro as we passed and waved.

“Good night, Mr. Wright,” Pedro said to Tom. “Señorita.”

The Range Rover sat up front and Tom hurried to open the door. I stepped inside and the familiar scent of leather mixed with his cologne wrapped around me. Sinking into the seats, I relished in the opulence. When he stepped into the driver’s seat, he turned toward me, luring me with his honey-streaked green eyes.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied, half enchanted.

“Good, me too.”

“Where are we going?”

He checked the car mirrors for incoming traffic. “To my favorite restaurant.”

“Oh?”

He looked at me, then shifted the car into drive. “The Riverview Steakhouse. Ever been?”

I blinked fast. “Celebrities eat there. You can’t get a reservation unless—”

“Hush,” he scolded playfully as he softly placed a finger over my lips, a smile carving his cheeks. “You’re gonna love it.”

We pulled out, his left hand on the wheel and his right hand on the gear shift. He looked amazing. Sophisticated, gallant, and with that I-own-this-town type of confidence people dream about. I didn’t know if I liked him better like this or in his designer jeans.

“Music?” he asked.

“Um, sure.”

“Any particular requests?”

“Surprise me.”

He pressed a button and bluesy tunes filtered through. The car was practically sound proof, shutting out the chaos of the city streets. I looked over to him and everything seemed perfect, almost surreal.

* * *

Nestled right on the Hudson River with a breathtaking view of the Brooklyn Bridge and lower Manhattan, The Riverview Steakhouse exploded with romance. A quick sweep of the area showcased an array of expensive, luxury automobiles lining the parking lot. Understanding for my lavish gift settled over me.

The valet opened my door and I stepped out into the warm and windy evening. Tom strolled along the front of the car and signaled for me to join him. As I walked up to him, he grabbed my hand, threading his fingers through mine. The gesture caught me off guard. He sensed my tension and looked at me with the kindling embers of his eyes. A tender smile crept to the corners of his mouth as he gave my hand a gentle squeeze, untangling the knot in my stomach.

Hand in hand, we walked, enjoying the evening twilight panorama over the river. The blue hour covered us in all her splendor. The last of the sun’s rebel rays scattered in the sky, illuminating the water and casting a hypnotic ambiance to the atmosphere.

The formal host greeted us at the entrance and shook Tom’s hand. “Good evening, Mr. Wright.” Then he nodded toward me. “Madam. Your table is ready.”

“Thank you, Dom,” Tom said, patting the host on the shoulder.

Dom escorted us to our table in the main dining room. Piano music hung in the air as we were seated at a cozy table in front of the glass wall of windows facing the New York City skyline. The Brooklyn Bridge and an early moon loomed over us.

“This place is magical,” I whispered as the waiter pulled out my chair.

Tom sat back in his seat, unbuttoned his jacket, and leaned forward, his gaze never leaving mine. “Well, it’s the perfect setting for dinner with a spellbinding woman like you.”

His flattery made me uneasy. As our waiter gave us each a menu and another man filled our water goblets, I glanced to my lap where my fingers twirled restlessly. When the servers left, I peered up at Tom and he tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “You seem uncomfortable,” he noted.

“I’m overwhelmed.”

“What do you mean?”

“This dress, the shoes, this place, Tuesday.”

He frowned. “Something wrong with Tuesdays?”

“Most people don’t go out to fancy dinners on Tuesdays. Tom, why all of this?”

“I thought you’d like it.”

“It’s mesmerizing. Romantic. Any girl’s dream. But you don’t even know me.”

He glanced away before answering, his jaw muscles clenching as he took a deep breath. Finally, he locked eyes with me. “Truthfully?”

I nodded.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Last Friday, at the coffee shop, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you…flustered and trying to wipe down the coffee stain from your blouse. You looked adorable mumbling to yourself. If I hadn’t been running late for my leadership meeting, I would have asked you to breakfast.”

The air inside my chest crystalized at the mention of the serendipitous moment. “I had no idea you actually noticed me.”

He rubbed a trembling hand through his hair. “Who wouldn’t?” He smirked. “It’s crazy, you know, this thing you’ve done to me. I can’t explain it, but when I’m with you, the world stops spinning and all there is…well, you and me.”

The blood iced in my veins.

He did experience it.

Tom looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something. And there was so much I wanted to tell him, but I struggled to make sense of the words sitting at the tip of my tongue.

The space between his eyebrows twisted into a tight knot and his shoulders slacked as he leaned back on his chair. “You don’t feel the same.”

I reached over to grab his hand. “No, it’s not like that at all. It’s just—” But I couldn’t finish my sentence. I couldn’t tell him how my world wasn’t the same anymore or that the battle inside my chest raged with savagery. A part of me wanted to give into the magic of something we could not explain, and the other part of me quivered in a cold, damp corner, afraid to come out—timorous to embrace the warmth of a promise of love.

He squeezed my hand gently. “I know it sounds crazy, but for a guy like me, this sort of thing doesn’t happen. And now, I can’t ignore this unrelenting pounding in my chest.”

He put his hand over his heart and peered at me, perhaps wanting to find confirmation in my eyes of my feelings for him. I was attempting equally hard to hide them. When I said nothing, he let out a rankled breath, running his hands through his hair. “I tried. I really did—to not be bothered by this twist-of-fate mumbo-jumbo, but can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me it didn’t happen to you, too?”

I stared in silence.

“I tried to deny it, but after I saw you again last night, I had to accept maybe something else is at work here.”

It did sound crazy, but I had entertained the idea for days. To hear it from his lips, though? I couldn’t believe it. I’d sworn never to allow myself to be swooped off my feet ever again. So how the hell did I permit myself to be drawn to this man?

The erratic thumps of my heart bruised the insides of my chest. If I could reach inside, I would have ripped its beating flesh right out of my body. The signs were there. It was happening again. I was losing control of my emotions and it made my gut twist and my stomach churn with acid.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his eyes glowing with hope.

“Nothing,” I blurted out, afraid to reveal the thoughts swirling inside my head, ripping my sanity apart.

He blinked at my response, then he leaned back on his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

Shit.

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

He clenched his jaw. “If this is too much, we can leave.” His voice was gravel as he pushed off his seat and stood.

Without thought, I reached out and wrapped my hand around his wrist. “I don’t want to go.”

He stared at my quaking fingers as they pleaded with him to not give up on me yet. Then he found my misty gaze. “Sara?”

“Tom…” My voice choked as I tried to speak. I thought about urging him to leave me to my miserable self, but my eyes would not be able to hide the fear gripping my spirit. My soul was vulnerable and visible to him. I prayed he’d see something else, too—the hope of love I’d banished from my life.

His chest heaved as he sucked in a deep breath and sat back down. I unclenched my fingers from his wrist, but he reached over and took my hand and encased it in his, rubbing his thumb over my palm. Without saying a word, the gesture gave me the reassurance I needed.

After regarding the river through the windows for a brief moment, he turned to me, and with a deep gulp of air, he confessed, “It unnerves me, too.”

My heart throbbed harder and I reached up to cup his cheek. I wanted to tell him I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. At home, at work, in my sleep—he saturated my mind. I wanted him to know his scent enthralled me, his masculinity disarmed me, his lips enticed me, and his touch undid me to the core.

Most importantly, I wanted him to understand my body raked with agony at the thought of never seeing him again. My insides twisted and writhed when we were apart because my attraction to him went beyond the earthly world. It was monumentally seeded to his soul on an ethereal plane where I had no control.

I didn’t need to utter a single word. He saw it all in my eyes—the feelings growing for this stranger I barely knew.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” There was no need to say more.

He took my hand and kissed the center of my palm. “How about some food? I’m starving.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I chimed in, relieved to end the melodrama of our temperamental hearts.

* * *

As promised, the food was exquisite, and during our wait, the fine Madeira wine betrayed me. I continued to fill my belly with our appetizer while my head spun warm and fuzzy.

Taking another morsel of my foie gras, I began my inquisition. “So…Charming, what do you do for a living?”

“I rescue princesses,” he replied matter-of-factly as he sipped his water.

“Seriously, though,” I countered, putting another chunk of food in my mouth.

He contemplated his answer. “I co-own a luxury real estate business with my best friend.”

“That explains how you’re driving around in a Range Rover and bringing girls here for dates.”

His gaze narrowed as he gulped water from his goblet to wash his food down. “Range Rovers are nothing to fuss about, it’s not as if I drive some obnoxious sports car.” Then he pushed his empty plate away and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You’re the first woman I’ve brought here, by the way,” he added with a smirk, satisfied with his reply.

I shrugged. “You have the perfect answers for everything, don’t you?”

He took another sip of water. “Your turn. What do you do for a living?”

I tried not to grumble. “I work for a dance company in Midtown.”

His eyes lit up with excitement. “You’re a dancer?”

“No…” I groaned, more bitterly than I intended. “I’m the administrative assistant to the artistic director.”

“Which dance company?”

“It’s the Rebecca Fitzgerald Dance Company on Forty-Second Street.”

His eyes twinkled as they lingered on me curiously. “Very interesting.”

My response was quick to cloud any ounce of sparkling wonder about what I did for a living. “Actually, there’s nothing particularly glamorous about what I do. In fact, it’s a nightmare. I am convinced my boss is the Prince of Darkness in female form, no doubt about it. And our resident choreographer is a complete dickhead.”

He chuckled as he shook his head in amusement.

“I’m not trying to be funny. I’m serious. I work inside Dante’s Inferno.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it is.”

“So, quit and find something else.”

Something else, he says. Because I haven’t thought of that before. Because I wouldn’t rather be dancing on that stage instead of filling it with dancers who aren’t half as good as I once was.

Because, it’s easy to forget your past, right?

“Sara?”

“Yeah?”

“You sort of spaced out for a moment there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. You were talking about how terrible work is. Maybe it’s time for a career change. Find something that makes you truly happy.”

“It’s…not that simple, Tom.”

“Why not? You’re young. There’s plenty of time for you to pursue your dreams.”

I fidgeted on my chair. Talking about work dug up memories of my past—ghosts I was not prepared to face. “It’s complicated, Tom.” My voice quavered as I tried to hold back the stampede of regret and sorrow pushing against the gates of my soul. My tearful gaze pleaded with him to drop the subject.

“How about we talk about something else?” he said, reading my thoughts.

* * *

As I finished my dessert, I set my utensil down and peered up at Tom. “Thank you for this evening. It really has been fantastic, the food phenomenal, and being with you…”

“You’re very welcome. Come, let’s take a walk.”

As Tom stood from his chair, he reached for my hand, entwining his fingers through mine. His hand felt warm and strong. I relished the intimate moment as he led me to the outside terrace. The wind was chilly, but it offered relief against the rising heat from my skin. We walked over to the edge of the railing and gazed out at the East River. Tom snuggled behind me and put his arms on the railing, cocooning me between him and the wood planks.

“This night is so beautiful, Tom.”

“Yes, it is, but it doesn’t compare to you.” He nuzzled my ear as he spoke, his breath raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

“You must say that to all the girls,” I teased.

“All the time,” he said, taking a tiny nip of my lobe.

I gave him a playful elbow jab, but he grabbed me and gently spun me around.

Wrapping his arms around me, we laughed as he placed my feet back on the ground. He brushed his knuckles against my cheek, pushing a runaway strand of hair behind my ear. My face flared at his touch, and I was thankful for the evening sky that he was not able to see the way my body divulged my secret thoughts.

Shivers ran down my spine, making me tremble. Looking at me with his playful eyes, he took off his blazer and draped it over my shoulders. I smiled. Shamefully and against my better judgment, I’d fallen for his cheesiness.

“This is the second time you’ve given me one of your jackets,” I said.

“I guess I like the way you look in my things.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

He grabbed me by the lapels of his blazer, bringing me closer. I gazed up only to find myself bound by his olive eyes. My arms were trapped under his jacket, rendering me motionless. He’d snared me. “What would you do if I kissed you?” he asked in a whisper.

“Why don’t you find out?” I replied with sweet command.

He pulled up on the blazer, drawing me into him. This time, I didn’t blink and no iron wall came crashing down to shield me from his kiss. I closed my eyes as his lips touched mine. Our mouths parted, our tongues feeling each other for the first time. With tenderness, they tangled in each other, exploring their sensitive areas, sending electric currents down my back.

The kiss sparked flames at all my nerve endings. His tongue invaded me deeper. The hot-wire from my mouth to my groin flowed feverishly, igniting sensations I hadn’t felt in a while. I sank deeper into his kiss, responding to his hunger. Our tongues swirled in harmony, hot and wet. He savored every bite he took of my mouth as I feasted on his succulent lips.

His hold on me loosened, but not for long. He reached under my hair, cupping my jaw and caressing my chin with his thumbs. My senses flooded with a myriad of feelings and tastes. My own hunger grew in beat with his heavy breaths. I knew it and he knew it—we couldn’t continue the kiss. Fighting with all the will in my body, I broke from his hot breath. His eyes were drunk with lust, making my knees weak. I feared if we were completely alone, I would be consumed by his passion.

His lips curled, and in a husky voice, he said, “Perhaps, we should go.”

I nodded in agreement. Taking me by the hand, we walked inside the restaurant where he settled the bill. I was woozy, not sure if from the wine or from his kiss, but I grabbed hold of his arm and melted into him as we walked out to the parking lot.

The evening couldn’t have been more spectacular. I still wore his blazer, bathing in his scent. It was so masculine that memories of our kiss broke through my consciousness and I felt myself moisten at the center between my legs. I crossed them to keep from writhing on the seat.

“Everything okay?” he asked, eyeing my bare thighs.

“Never better,” I uttered quickly, managing to hide my body’s inner reaction to the remnants of his kiss.

He reached over and accidentally grazed my thigh before tenderly grabbing hold of my hand. My insides jumped at his touch. We held hands for the ride. His fingers were like small radiators emanating heat, making my body warm. I found myself caressing his knuckles and pulled on the small hairs on his hand and wrist.

The sexual tension built and I punched a hole to our silent bubble before it would burst on its own. “So, what else do you have on your playlist?” I asked.

“What do you want to listen to?”

“Surprise me.”

He let go of my hand and rubbed his fingers through his hair twice before fumbling with the sound system. A local jazz singer piped through the speakers, singing the cover to an old favorite. What was usually a comfortable silence between us became unsettling. My lion was broody, and picking up on the subtle cues, I decided not to pester the beast. I left him to his troubling thoughts and dwelled on the imprint of his lips.

Fifteen minutes later, and much to my silent dismay, we arrived back at my apartment. Tom opened my door and ushered me out. We walked up the stoop of the entrance, my hand longing for his. As we stopped at the door, I slid his blazer off my shoulders.

I handed him his jacket and he folded it over his arm. Our gazes locked, both of us waiting, but neither making a move. Finally, I looked at my fingertips; he stared at his feet, tapping them to and fro.

“So…I,” we both said at the same time.

“You go first,” I urged.

“No, you go first,” he insisted.

“This night was amazing and memorable.” I squeezed my palms together, trying to calm the tremors spurring at the thought of parting from him.

“Thank you for accepting my hasty invitation,” he said, avoiding my gaze.

“When do I get to see you again?” I was hopeful I wouldn’t have to wait too long.

He held me in his eyes. “I wish this night didn’t have to end.”

“It doesn’t have to…”

“Oh, Sara. You do know how to temp a man, but I can’t. I have a business trip and I’m leaving on a red-eye flight tonight.”

My eyes widened. I had not expected that.

“We have a West Coast office, and I have some matters to attend to.”

“Is that why you asked me out tonight?”

“I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”

“Will I see you again soon?” I asked once more, not caring that I sounded desperate.

“I’ll call you,” he said, his voice staid, his eyes distant.

It was dismissive. I questioned if perhaps I’d done something wrong? Or maybe I had sound too desperate. He’d call me? Why not say he’d see me when he got back? His reply was short of the magic that bewitched me tonight. Maybe I was reading too deeply into things. Nevertheless, I stepped into defense mode, wanting to salvage my dignity. I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear then placed my hands on my hips and played it off as if it was a non-issue. “Sure, whatever.”

He leaned in quickly for a chaste kiss on the lips. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight to you.”

Something inside me ached as I watched him walk back down and into his car. He pulled away without the slightest wave goodbye, leaving me lingering on his kiss and wanting more of his taste. The evening could have ended perfectly, yet, after the lavish gift, the romantic setting, scrumptious meal, and divine embrace, I was left feeling ripped off and cheap.