He touched her, skimming his fingers over the back of her neck, exposed by her upswept hair. Then with the lightest of pressure eased her toward him. The knock on the door brought on a wry grin.
“Prompt service. I’ll get it. Once they’ve set up dinner, we’ll be completely alone.”
HE MADE IT all happen, she mused. The big picture, the tiny details so the evening unfolded for her like the pages of a storybook. And because of him, she was sitting in an elegant suite, sipping champagne with the romance of candlelight, the shimmer of firelight. Flowers scented the air. There was a lovely meal she could barely taste through the anticipation bubbling in her throat.
Tonight, they would make love.
“Tell me what it was like for you, growing up,” she asked him.
“I liked having brothers, even when they pissed me off.”
“You’re close. I can see that whenever they come to visit. Even though they live away from Memphis, the three of you are like a team.”
He topped off her glass. “Did you wish for sibs when you were a kid?”
“I did. I had friends and cousins to play with, but I did. A sister especially. Somebody to tell secrets to in the middle of the night, or even to fight with. You had all that.”
“As kids, it was like having a personal gang, especially when David came along.”
“Bet the four of you drove Roz crazy.”
He grinned, lifted his glass. “We did our best. Summers were long, the way they’re supposed to be when you’re a kid. Long, hot days, and the yard, the woods, they were the whole world. I remember how it smelled, all green and thick. And this time of year, how you’d hear the cicadas all night.”
“I used to leave my window open a little ways at night so I could hear them better. I bet y’all got in plenty of trouble.”
“Probably more than our share. You couldn’t slip much by Mama. She had this radar, it was a little scary. I remember how she’d be in the garden, or in the house doing something, and I’d come around and she’d just know I’d been doing something I shouldn’t’ve been doing.”
She propped an elbow on the table, cupped her chin in her hand. “Name something.”
“The most baffling, at least at the time, was when I was with a girl the first time.” He drenched one of the strawberries in whipped cream, held it out for her to bite. “I came home having had my first sample of paradise in the back-seat of my much-loved Camaro, about six months after my sixteenth birthday. She came into my room the next morning, and put a box of Trojans on my dresser.”
With a shake of his head, he polished off the berry. “She said, and I remember this very well, that we’d already talked about sex and responsibility, about being safe and smart and careful, so she assumed that I had used protection, and would continue to do so. Then she asked if I had any questions or comments.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, ‘No ma’am.’And when she walked out the door, I pulled the covers up over my head and asked God how the hell my mama came to know I’d had sex with Jenny Proctor in my Camaro. It was both mystifying and humiliating.”
“I hope I’m like that.”
His eyebrows lifted as he coated another berry. “Mystified and humiliated?”
“No. As smart as your mama. As wise as that with Lily.”
“Lily’s not allowed to have sex until she’s thirty, and married a couple of years.”
“Goes without saying.” She bit into the berry he offered,
“Jenny?” He got a look on his face, a kind of half smile that told her he was looking back. “Why, she just pined away for me. She was forced to go to California to college, and stay out there and marry a screenwriter.”
“Poor thing. I shouldn’t have any more,” she said when he topped off her glass again. “I’m already half buzzed.”
“No point in doing things halfway.”
Angling her head, she sent him a deliberately provocative look. “Is part of the lineup you talked about getting me loose on champagne so you can have your way with me?”
“It was on the schedule.”
“Thank God. Is that event coming up soon, because I don’t think I can sit here and look at you much longer without having you touch me.”
His eyes darkened as he rose, held out a hand for hers. “Here was my plan. I was going to ask you to dance, so I could get my arms around you, something like this.”
She slid into them. “I haven’t found a single flaw in your plan so far.”
“Then I was going to kiss you, here.” He brushed his lips over her temple. “And here.” Her cheek. “And here.” And her mouth, sinking in slowly and deeply until that meeting of lips was the center of the world.
“I want you so much.” She pressed against him, burrowed in. “It takes me over. Take me over, Harper. I’ll go crazy if you don’t.”
He circled her toward the steps, stopped at the base and looked into her eyes. “Come upstairs, and be with me.”
With her hand in his, she started up, then let out a breathless laugh. “My knees are shaking. I can’t even tell if it’s from nerves or excitement. I’ve imagined myself with you so many times, but I never imagined I’d be nervous.”
“We’ll go slow. No rush.”
Her heart was beginning to trip and stumble, but there was one more thing. “Um, I’m using something—birth control—but I think we should . . . I didn’t bring any of those Trojans.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Should’ve figured you’d thought of everything.”
“Be prepared.”
“Were you a Boy Scout?”
“No, but I dated a few former Girl Scouts.”
It made her chuckle, and nearly relax again. “I think . . .”
She trailed off as she stepped into the bedroom. There were candles waiting to be lit, and the lamp on low. The bed was already turned down, with a single red lily resting on the pillow.
The romance of it saturated her.
“Oh, Harper.”
“Wait.” He walked around the room to light the candles, to turn off the lamp. Then he picked up the flower and offered it. “I brought you these because it’s how I think of you, how I’ve thought of you since the beginning. I’ve never thought of anyone else the same way.”
She stroked the petals over her cheek, breathed in their fragrance, then set the lily aside. “Undress me.”
He lifted a hand, nudged the thin strap from her shoulder, laid his lips there. In turn, with her heart beating thickly, she slid the jacket off his.
Then her mouth found his as her fingers opened the buttons of his shirt, as his drew down the zipper at the back of her dress. His hands cruised over her back, and hers spread over his chest. When her dress slithered to the floor, she stepped out of it—then held her breath as he eased back and just looked at her.
She wore flimsy scraps of red that shimmered in the candlelight against her smooth pale skin. And high, high heels with long, long legs. Desire, already impossibly strong, clutched at his belly.
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m skinny. All angles, no curves.”
He shook his head, reached out to trace a finger over the subtle curve of her breast. “Delicate, like a lily stem. Would you take your hair down?”
With her eyes on his, she reached up to pull out the pins, then skimmed her fingers through it. And waited.
“Amazing,” he repeated. Taking her hand, he drew her to the bed. “Just sit,” he said, then knelt in front of her to slip off her shoes.
His lips trailed up her calf and had her clutching the edge of the bed. “Oh God.”
“Let me do the things I’ve thought about doing.” His teeth grazed the back of her knee. “All of them.”
