“So what do you want, then?” The eloquent silence that followed her words made her feel like an idiot. “Oh, duh,” she mumbled. “Set myself up for that, didn’t I? Handed it right to you on a silver platter.”
“A kiss,” he said.
She blinked. “What?”
“That’s what I want.”
She put her hands over her hot cheeks. “Uh…whoa.”
“Don’t worry. No pressure. You don’t have to kiss me,” he assured her. “But you asked me what I wanted. I’m just telling you. That’s all.”
She was utterly flustered. “But I…I just can’t.”
“I know you can’t. I’ll live,” he said. “You’re just so pretty. You smell wonderful, and your voice makes shivers go down my spine. I’m talking about just a tiny, respectful, worshipping kiss. Like kissing the feet of a golden goddess. A sip of paradise.”
Oh, he was diabolically, scarily good. She was spellbound by those seductive topaz eyes, that silk-and-velvet voice. Imagining how it would feel to be kissed like that. As if she were precious, unique.
Loved.
She backed away, appalled at how tempted she was. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I…I just can’t risk that.”
He nodded. “Of course not. Sorry. Shouldn’t even have said it.”
Damn. If he’d been churlish, that would have broken the spell. As it was, his sweetness threw her into terrible confusion.
He placed Sheba on the floor, gave her a farewell stroke, and rose to his feet. His gallant nod was almost a bow. He walked out. She stared at the blank rectangle of night beyond the open door.
She hurried out onto the porch. “Zan!” she called.
He stopped halfway down the stairs and turned slowly. “Yeah?”
She started down after him. “Don’t you want your check?”
He shook his head. “I’d rather dream about my kiss.”
She stopped on the step above his. He still loomed, inches taller than she. “That’s, ah, not very good business,” she told him.
“Nope,” he agreed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you.”
“Shhh.” She put her finger against his lips. They were amazingly soft and warm. Something broke loose inside her, and tears flooded down.
His arms circled her, and suddenly she was draped over him, shaking with sobs. She lifted her head a moment later, sniffling. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Bet this service isn’t in your fee schedule.”
“I don’t want a fee from you,” he said. “Get it through your head.”
“Take this, then.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him.
It was a careful kiss. Tender and charged with sweetness. She felt every detail intensely: the scent of his breath, the softness of his lower lip, his hot skin, the strong, elegant bone structure beneath her hands. His beard stubble was so long, it was no longer scratchy. It was soft.
She forced herself to pull away. Zan’s head was tilted back, his eyes closed as if he’d received a divine benediction. His cheekbones were stained with color.
Her laughter sounded soggy. “Zan? Hello? You OK?”
He smiled, eyes still closed. “I’m in heaven.”
“Oh, please.” She swatted his shoulder. “Don’t overdo it.”
He opened his eyes. “I tasted tears on your lips. Made me blush.”
“Oh.” She wiped her eyes, her cheeks. “I’m, ah, glad you liked it.”
He took a step down the stairs. “I’d better go. Right now,” he said. “I can’t keep up this perfect gentleman act any longer.”
So don’t. She forced the impulsive words back. “So it’s an act?”
He backed down the steps. “Only since the dawn of mankind.”
He turned the corner and was lost to sight. She listened to his vehicle pull away. Headlights rounded the curve.
She realized that her phone was ringing. The machine clicked on as she walked in. “This is Abby. Sorry I missed you. Leave a message.”
“Abby? Are you home?” Elaine’s voice was sharp with worry. “Pick up if you are, because I’m about to call the police.”
Abby snatched up the phone. “I’m here,” she said. “Relax.”
“You got rid of the date from hell?”
“With some help, yes.” She dropped limply into a kitchen chair.
“Help? What do you mean, help?”
“Edgar was slobbering all over me, which was gross, and then this locksmith materialized out of nowhere and, uh…beat him up.”
“Beat him…good God, Abby!”
“Yeah, it was pretty special,” Abby said fervently.
“So the locksmith saved you, then? How romantic!”
“Actually, it was really violent and scary,” Abby snapped.
“I’m sure it was,” Elaine soothed. “I didn’t mean to be flip. You haven’t sounded excited about a guy since you made up the List.”
“Let’s not get into my List tonight.”
“OK. One last thing, though. Was the locksmith cute?”
Abby hesitated. “It doesn’t matter if he’s cute,” she said heavily. “He’s everything I’ve sworn at all costs to avoid.”
“Ah,” Elaine murmured. “The plot thickens.”
Abby winced. “No, it doesn’t. Please. I’ve suffered enough tonight.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Elaine said. “Oh, another thing. Would you bring my house keys to work tomorrow? I want to give a set to Mark.”
Abby was startled. “Really? How long have you known this guy?”
“He asked for them.” Elaine’s voice was defensive. “I figured I’d just give him the ones I gave you and make new ones for you. OK? Don’t worry. Really. It seems too good to be true, Abby. He’s just so—”
The murmur of a masculine voice cut off whatever Elaine was about to say. She came back on the line a moment later. “Gotta go.”
“OK.
