Линда Ховард – Sarah's Child (страница 6)

Sarah shifted uneasily, wondering why he was watching her so intently. She put a hand to her cheek, thinking that she could dash into her bedroom and do a fast cosmetic job on her face. Anything would be an improvement over nothing.

“I don’t suppose you have beer?” he asked softly, not taking his eyes from her.

Despite herself, she chuckled at the question. She’d never bought beer in her life; all she knew about it was the catchy jingles on television. “No, you’re out of luck. Your choice is limited to a soft drink, water, tea or milk.”

His eyebrows rose at that. “No spirits?”

“I’m not much of a drinker. My metabolism can’t handle it. I found out in college that I’m the world’s cheapest drunk.”

When she smiled, her face took on an animation that made him catch his breath. He shifted uncomfortably. Damn! Everything she did made him think of sex.

“I think I’ll pass on a drink, unless you’re inviting me to dinner?” His eyebrows rose in question.

Sarah sank back into her chair, unnerved by the speed with which he presumed on their newly formed friendship. How could she invite him to dinner? It was already late in the afternoon, and she hadn’t bought groceries. The most nutritious meal she could offer him would be peanut butter sandwiches, and Rome didn’t look like a peanut butter man. What did he like to eat? Frantically she tried to call to mind the type of meals Diane had prepared, but Diane had been such a total disaster as a cook that her efforts had been limited to the simple things she could prepare without too much risk, and which reflected necessity rather than anyone’s preference. Sarah was an excellent cook, but there was a limit to what could be done with a partial loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter.

Finally she turned up her palms helplessly. “My cupboards aren’t bare, but they’re the next thing to it. I can invite you to dinner, but it will be a late one, because I’ll have to go shopping first.”

Her candor delighted him, and he laughed, a genuine laugh that made his dark eyes dance with light. Sarah caught her breath. He certainly wasn’t handsome, but when he laughed, Rome Matthews could charm the birds out of the trees. That dark velvet laugh made her spine tingle, and she thought of lying in bed with him in the darkness, after making love. They’d talk, and his voice would wash over her, the rumbling tones making her feel secure and protected.

“Why don’t I take you out to dinner instead?” he offered, and suddenly Sarah knew that he’d planned that all along, but had decided to tease her first.

“All right,” she accepted softly. “What do you have in mind?”

“Steak. If we can’t find the world’s biggest steak in Texas, then it can’t be found. I haven’t had lunch,” he confessed.

Because he was so hungry, they had an early dinner. Sarah sat across from him and chewed her steak without really tasting it, her mind on Rome and every nuance of his expression, every word he uttered. She felt bemused by the turn of events; she simply couldn’t believe she was eating dinner with him, making normal conversation, as if the abrupt, searing moments in his arms the night before had never happened. She’d been out to dinner hundreds of times before, but always with men who had never ruffled her layers of indifference. She wasn’t indifferent at all with Rome: she felt bare, exposed, though it was an inner vulnerability that wasn’t revealed by her calm expression. Her nerves were quivering, and her heartbeat was accelerated.

Still, she managed to make normal conversation, and it was inevitable that the talk should turn to their work. Sarah’s boss, Mr. Graham, the senior vice president, nominally outranked Rome, but it was no secret that when Mr. Edwards, the chairman of the board, retired, Henry Graham wouldn’t be the one who advanced to the chair. Rome was young, but he was a brilliant corporate strategist, and he understood every phase of the company. Sarah thought he was perfectly suited for such a high position of authority; he had the forceful personality, the intelligence, the charisma, needed to handle the job. In the years she’d known him, she’d only seen him lose his temper once while at work, and that display had sent people scurrying for cover. He had a temper, but it was usually under iron control. That made it doubly surprising that he’d lost his temper with her the night before, with so little provocation.

At first Rome was a little stiff, as if wary of saying too much to her, but as the hours wore on he relaxed with her, leaning forward over the table in interest, his gaze fixed intently on her face. Sarah didn’t generally volunteer her opinions, but she was unusually observant, and her years of concentration on her job had given her a lot of insight into the hidden mechanisms of office politics, and the capabilities and weaknesses of the people they worked with. With Rome, her usual guards were gone, wiped completely out of her consciousness. She simply responded to him on all levels, too happy just being with him to think of protecting herself. Her face, usually so remote and shuttered, became alive under the glow of his attention, and her Nile-green eyes lost their shadows to sparkle at him beguilingly.

The conversation didn’t lapse when he drove her home, and they were so intent that, when he stopped the car in front of her condo, they sat in the car like teenagers reluctant to end a date, rather than going inside for coffee to finish the evening. The streetlights illuminated the interior of the car with silvery light, washing away all shades of color except for the darkness of his hair and eyes and the pale sheen of her hair. She was ethereal in the artificial moonlight projected by the street-lights, her low voice gentle in the darkness.

Rome suddenly reached out and took her hand. “I’ve enjoyed this. It seems like forever since I’ve been able to talk to a woman. I haven’t had a relationship with a woman since Diane died. I don’t mean sex,” he explained calmly. “I’m talking about being able to be friends with a woman, to talk to her and enjoy her company, to relax with her. I think I’ve missed that the most. Tonight…well, it’s felt good. Thank you.”

Sarah turned her hand in his and squeezed his fingers lightly. “That’s what friends are for.”

He walked with her up to her apartment. Sarah unlocked the door and opened it, reaching inside to turn on the light before she turned to face Rome again. Her smile was gently sad, for she hated to see the night end. It had been, for all its lack of drama, one of the best times of her life. “Good night. It’s been fun.” More than fun. It had been heavenly.

“Good night.” But he didn’t leave. Instead he stood in the doorway, soberly regarding her. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek with his forefinger, then slid his hand around to cup her chin in his palm. He leaned toward her, and Sarah went weak with anticipation, her eyes widening as fevered delight shot through her. He was going to kiss her again. Lightly his mouth touched hers, his lips moving with tender expertise over her parted, breathless mouth. His warm taste filled her, and Sarah’s lashes fluttered, then slowly closed. With a zephyr of a sigh she swayed into his arms; he needed no more encouragement than that. Locking his arms around her, he pulled her up against his chest and gradually deepened the kiss, as if he were wary of going too fast for her, giving her time to accept or reject each new move.

There was no question of her rejecting him. It wasn’t in Sarah’s makeup to say no to Rome in any way. She felt the heat of his body burning her through the layers of their clothing, and the warmth was a beacon that drew her closer. She wound her arms around his neck and eagerly accepted the more intimate intrusion of his tongue. A naked, wanting heat began building in her, and she wanted to be closer to him, to mold herself against him so tightly that his flesh would be hers.

His hands moved restlessly over her back, wanting to seek richer ground but restricted by the tight control he kept on himself and the situation. Sensing her safety with him, Sarah kissed him with undisguised hunger, not caring that he might look beyond the obvious explanation for her behavior and arrive at the correct conclusion that her attraction to him went beyond sex. But sex with him would be so good, she thought giddily, clinging to him. His experience was obvious in the firm but gentle way he touched her, the leisure with which he approached every caress. If he’d taken her into the bedroom right then, she’d have followed him without a murmur of protest.

But he lifted his mouth from hers, though he sighed and rested his forehead against hers for a moment before reaching up and disentangling her arms from about his neck, then setting her away from him. “Now it really is good night. I’m going to be in bad shape if this goes on much longer, so I’m stopping it here. I’ll see you Monday morning, at work.”

Quickly Sarah reached for her composure, drawing it about her like a garment, and she tried to disguise the raggedness of her breathing. Her body felt betrayed, but he was right: it had to stop there, or it wouldn’t stop at all. “Yes. Good night,” she breathed, before stepping into her apartment and quietly closing the door.