shrugged. Too late to turn back now. “After … after Ben died,” she explained, “I felt like I’d died, too.”
Nick nodded almost impatiently. “Yeah.”
“Months passed. I wasn’t interested in going out. I didn’t care about dating again. I … wasn’t interested in any man.” She hesitated, then spelled it out. “Until you.”
“You don’t love me,” he protested.
“I know that!” Edie said fiercely. “But I like you.”
“Yeah, well, I like you, too,” he said, frowning. “But I’m not falling in love with you!”
“Exactly,” Edie said. “And if I am starting to feel things again, I don’t want to fall for someone who isn’t interested. I’ve already done that,” she told him.
He scowled. “When?”
“I was eighteen. Young, foolish. I should have known better. You remember the actor with my mother at Mont Chamion?”
“Him?” Nick looked appalled.
“He was charming. We dated. It meant more to me than it did to him.” She refused to go into all the bloody details. “It wasn’t like that with Ben,” she said. “So I know how it’s supposed to be.”
“You do, do you?” His dark eyes glittered with challenge.
But Edie had no doubts about that. She wrapped her fingers around the coffee mug and met his gaze squarely. “Yes.”
Nick’s mouth twisted. His fingers drummed lightly on the tabletop. With his other hand he carried his coffee cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. He still didn’t speak.
Neither did she. Just as well. She’d probably already said far too much.
The waiter came and refilled Nick’s cup, but Edie put a hand over hers and shook her head with a smile. “I’ve had enough,” she said. “I won’t sleep if I drink anymore.”
The waiter shot a conspiratorial male look in Nick’s direction. “Sleep is overrated.”
Nick made an inarticulate sound, then said harshly, “Could you bring the check, please.”
Edie reached for her purse. “I’ll get it.”
Dark eyes flashed. “The hell you will.”
“It’s business,” Edie protested. “My mother—”
“Your mother has nothing to do with this!” Nick pulled out his credit card and thrust it at the returning waiter before he could even reach the table.
“Really, Nick—”
“Stop arguing, Edie.” His tone was flat and uncompromising. “And put your wallet away.”
Reluctantly Edie put it away. “I don’t expect—”
“You’ve already made what you expect and don’t expect quite clear. Let me make something clear, too—when I invite a woman out to dinner, I expect to pay. Got it?”
“Got it,” Edie muttered.
The waiter came back with the tab, which Nick scanned quickly, nodded and signed, then tucked his card and the receipt back in his wallet.
“You can tax deduct it,” Edie suggested.
Nick glared at her. Then he stood and came around the table to pull out her chair for her before she could push the chair back and get up herself. All very gentlemanly and polite. Just as if she couldn’t hear him grinding his teeth.
“Thank you,” she mumbled as she stood. “And thank you for dinner.”
“My pleasure,” he lied. It had to be a lie. The hum of awareness was still there, but so was a sizzle of annoyance.
Edie quickened her steps as they headed for the exit. But the toe of her sandal caught on a protruding chair leg. She stumbled. Nick’s hand shot out to catch her arm and keep her from falling.
“Thank you,” she said, breathless.
“No problem,” he said, tersely.
The problem was that he didn’t let go. He walked beside her as they headed toward the lot where he’d parked the car, his fingers stayed on her arm. Through the thin cotton of her dress, she could feel them as if there was no barrier at all between them.
Once in the car, she gave him directions on how to get out of Santa Barbara and back up into the hills to Mona’s house. He’d found it himself during the day. She knew it wasn’t as easy at night. He didn’t argue. He didn’t discuss. He didn’t talk at all. He followed her instructions without comment.
He didn’t speak again until he’d parked the car and they were climbing the steps to her apartment.
She would have protested that she didn’t need to be escorted to the door, but there was an implacability about him now that made her hold her tongue. If he wanted to walk all the way up, so be it. He wasn’t coming in.
The porch wasn’t big. As she got out her key, he was close enough that she could smell the woodsy scent of his aftershave. He was close enough that if she turned, she could go up on her tiptoes and kiss his lips.
She didn’t turn. In fact she was glad she managed to stick the key in the lock without fumbling as her hands were trembling slightly. Only when she had the key in the lock, did she look around. “Thank you for dinner,” she said politely.
Nick grunted, his lips pressed in a thin line. So much for all that Savas charm.
She gave him a quick smile, pushed open the door and went in. Roy came bounding to meet her.
“Edie.”
She caught Roy by the collar and looked back at Nick. “Yes?”
His dark eyes bored into hers. “It’s not a given, you know.”
It? “What’s not?”
“That you’ll fall in love. People choose whether or not to fall in love. It’s always a choice.”
“It’s—”
“Always a choice,” he repeated firmly, cutting her off. “You just need to choose not to.”
Edie opened her mouth to protest, but even as she did so, she knew there was no point. If Nick believed that, they would have to agree to disagree. “Good night, Nick.”
“Good night, Edie.” His tone was ever so slightly mocking. A corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Let me know when you change your mind.”
In the morning, he was gone.
She wasn’t surprised to look out the window and see that his car wasn’t there. He’d obviously decided
