they were, paused halfway up the flight of steps to the restaurant and viewing her and Zack with an air of smug satisfaction—the successful matchmakers congratulating themselves on getting it right!
Except this blind date wasn’t going beyond whatever happened tonight.
Remember that, Catherine sternly told herself as she walked beside the man who had every nerve in her body agitated, her heart thumping, her mind bombarded with tempting fantasies.
There is no tomorrow, she recited, meaning it as a sobering caution to be sensible. Yet somehow it had the perverse effect of inciting a sense of wild recklessness—a desire to take what she could of Zack Freeman while she could. To have him. All he’d give her. If only for one night.
CHAPTER THREE
SHE had ordered the three scoops of different ice-creams for dessert and was tasting them each in turn, sliding the loaded spoon between her lips, consciously testing the flavour on her tongue. Zack found the action so sensual, his whole body was tightening up. Catherine Trent was one hell of a sexy woman and the urge to race her off into the night and ravage her from head to toe had a powerful grip on him.
He wrenched his gaze away from her mouth and turned it out to sea. Their table was on the open veranda that ran the length of the restaurant and he’d taken refuge in the view several times tonight, needing to cool the desire that kept plaguing him. Was she as hot for him as he was for her? Would she go for it, given the limitation he’d stipulated?
One night…
Problem was, he might end up wanting more and that would mess him up. She was like a fever in his blood and he needed a cool head once he hit Los Angeles. It was the wrong time to meet a woman like Catherine Trent. She appealed to him on too many levels. He liked the way her mind worked, liked talking with her, liked having her across the table from him, watching her face, the expressions in her fascinating eyes, her body language.
She wasn’t a stranger anymore, though he’d deliberately refrained from asking about her life, keeping their dinner conversation to very general topics. She’d still got to him, more than he recalled any other woman ever doing.
Better to let her go, he told himself. What had she said…win some, lose some? He’d never liked losing, but he had a lot at stake right now. Winning what he planned to win in L.A. was more important than losing out on a night of sex which could get him too involved with this woman.
‘Do you think a full moon really does affect people?’
There was a full moon tonight, big and white, hanging in the sky where he had turned his gaze, but he hadn’t been looking at it. Catherine’s question drew an instant reply from Livvy who’d been bubbling with high spirits all evening.
‘Course it does. The word, lunatic didn’t evolve from nothing.’
‘Historically it is associated with madness. And romance,’ Pete chimed in.
‘Which could be considered a form of madness,’ Zack observed dryly, looking back at Catherine, hoping she wasn’t nursing romantic thoughts about him.
It simply wasn’t on.
Yet the pull of her attraction was very strong.
‘I was just wondering…’ The musing little smile on her lips had his gut contracting with the desire to kiss her. ‘…how connected are we to the physical world? We get irritated when it’s windy. Sunshine tends to make us smile. The moon regulates the tides, so when it’s at full strength like this, does it tug at things in us, too?’
Was she wanting an explanation for what she felt with him?
An excuse for it?
Something outside herself so she couldn’t be blamed for wanting what he wanted, too?
‘You mean like amplifying the feelings we have,’ Livvy said speculatively. ‘Making mad people even madder.’
‘Swelling the tides of passion,’ Pete rolled out, relishing that idea and proceeding to banter with Livvy about possible lunar effects on human behaviour.
‘Don’t forget animals,’ Zack inserted after a while. ‘Why do wolves howl at a full moon?’
‘Because they prefer dark nights?’ Catherine suggested, looking at him with her head on a tilt as though mentally likening him to a wolf who prowled dark places.
‘Or maybe it’s part of the mating game,’ he couldn’t resist saying.
Her thick lashes lowered, veiling the expression in her eyes, though not before he glimpsed a vulnerability to the mating they could share.
Temptation bit into his resolution to let her go.
She wanted him. He wanted her. Where was the harm in a one-night stand? It wasn’t as though she was an inexperienced woman. Late twenties, he guessed, and given her face and figure, had probably been fending off or taking on guys since her mid-teens.
Her long throat moved in a convulsive little swallow. Dry-mouthed from the heat coursing through her? The low V-neckline of her dress pointed into the valley between her breasts, shadowed by the soft swell of lush feminine flesh on either side. He wanted to fill his hands with her, wanted to…
‘Coffee, anyone?’
The waiter deftly removed the emptied dessert plates as choices were made around the table.
‘Short black,’ Catherine said,
Strong and dark, Zack thought, which was how he wanted it, too. ‘The same for me.’
He didn’t hear what the others ordered. The waiter departed. Pete suggested they walk on down the hill to the Crowne Plaza after they’d finished their coffee, disco the rest of the night away. Livvy applauded the idea. Catherine smiled at her sister but said nothing, waiting for Zack’s reaction with no persuasion from her either way.
Hours of ear-blasting music and hot, sweaty dancing didn’t appeal to Zack. Nor did a long sexual tease with Catherine that promised without delivering. She had burned him enough tonight. If there was to be any action between them, it was now or never, he decided.
Her choice.
‘I hope you’ll all excuse me—you, particularly, Catherine…’ He offered her a rueful smile. ‘I wasn’t planning on a late night tonight. I have a car calling at seven-thirty in the morning to take me to the airport. I’ve enjoyed the evening very much but…’
‘You don’t want to be a total wreck tomorrow,’ she finished for him, smiling her understanding and with more than a hint of relief in her eyes.
Off the hook?
‘I won’t cut into your plan of action, Pete,’ he directed to his old friend. ‘I can call a taxi from here and the three of you can…’
‘No need for a taxi,’ Catherine cut in. ‘I can drive you back to Forresters Beach on my way home.’
Excitement zipped through his veins. Opportunity had just been opened up. Was it deliberate, decisive, or merely flirting with
