A niggling sense of guilt swept over her.
Okay. So maybe she should have feigned a headache and canceled.
But it was too late now.
“I thought we’d have dinner on the coast,” Anthony said. “I hope that’s all right with you.”
“It sounds nice.” Lissa hadn’t made the thirty-mile drive in ages. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, though. So I’d better warn you. I might start winding down early.”
“I’ll try not to keep you out too late,” Anthony said, appearing a bit disappointed but understanding.
Just before six o’clock, they arrived at Café Europa, the restaurant Anthony had chosen. Lissa found the small, intimate dining room with white plaster walls and dark wood beams quaint and appealing.
The maître d’ greeted Anthony like a favored customer, then sat them at a linen-draped table that displayed a crystal votive and a vase of tulips. A large bay window provided a majestic view of the rocky bluff, as well as the ocean.
“This is one of my favorite places to dine,” Anthony said, as he took the seat across from her.
“I can see why. The atmosphere is incredible.”
During the cocktail hour and dinner, Anthony was a perfect gentleman. And they spent a pleasant hour or two in conversation.
“How was your salmon?” he asked.
“It was wonderful. And so was the service. I’m surprised there isn’t a line waiting to get in.”
“Not many people know about this place—yet. But word will spread.” He scanned the interior. “I like the European flair.”
She smiled. “The atmosphere suits you.”
“It suits you, too.” A smile crinkled his eyes, yet he still didn’t look his age.
When the waiter returned with the processed credit card, Anthony added a tip and signed the receipt. “I suppose I’d better get you home.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” She’d hate to fall asleep in the car. He might think that she found him boring, which wasn’t the case.
He reached across the table and took her hand. “You know what they say about all work and no play.”
Yes, she did. After the reception, she and Sullivan had played all night long. But that would remain her secret. “As soon as we’ve officially launched Virgin Mist, I’ll consider a vacation.”
“Good.” He smiled and released her hand. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes. Thank you. I had a wonderful time.” And she had. All in all, the evening had been much nicer than she’d expected. But she was glad it was over.
Nearly forty minutes later, they pulled into Valencia Vineyards and followed the long drive to the house. As Anthony parked, Lissa looked at the darkened cottage.
Apparently, Sullivan had gone to bed. He had to be as tired as she was. Maybe more so. She’d dozed off once or twice last night, in a pleasant afterglow. And each time she’d opened her eyes, she’d found him wide awake, watching her.
Anthony slid from the driver’s seat, then circled the car and opened her door. “I have tickets to the theater next Saturday. And I’d like you to join me.”
He took her hand and helped her from the car. His manners impressed her, flattered her. But that didn’t mean she felt good about going out with him again. Not while Sullivan was still working for the vineyard and living on the property. And even after Sullivan moved on, she suspected his memory would hold her back as well.
“I’m going to be pretty busy with Virgin Mist for the next couple weeks,” she said. “Maybe another time?”
“Of course.”
Again, she glanced at the darkened cottage. If truth be told, she was glad Sullivan had turned out the lights and gone to bed. It made things easier that way.
Who needed to hear an “I told you so,” even if it came from her own conscience?
She’d just leave Barney at the guest house and talk to Sullivan in the morning.
At the front door of the family home, the porch light glowed in a golden welcome.
“Would you mind if I kissed you?” Anthony asked.
The question took her aback, and she wasn’t sure what to say. In a way, she wondered how Anthony’s kiss would compare to Sullivan’s. The only other kiss she had to measure it by was the wet and sticky one she’d shared with Milt Preston on this very porch.
“No, I wouldn’t mind.”
With a debonair smile, he took her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers.
It was a nice kiss, cloaked in the fresh fragrance of his musky aftershave. It was a gentle kiss, soft and sweet. All in all, the kiss was pleasant, but it lacked the heat and passion of Sullivan’s.
“I’ll call you in a few days,” Anthony said.
“All right.”
He smiled, then turned and walked away. As she watched him go, her gaze drifted to the cottage, where the outdoor light suddenly came on. And a dark figure took a seat on the deck.
What had Sullivan been doing? Sitting in the dark?
Well, it wasn’t dark any longer. And she had a feeling the scowl he wore had never left his face.
As Anthony drove away from the vineyard, Lissa headed for the guest house to get Barney. She wasn’t in a hurry, though. Something told her she’d be in for a lecture. Or a sullen pout.
Okay. So the date had been a mistake. The kiss, too. But rather than reveal her regret and disappointment, she forced a smile and continued to walk.
Maybe Anthony Martinelli was too old for her. Maybe he’d been a family friend for so long she’d never be able to think of him as anything else. But a more likely explanation was that she wanted to see fireworks and feel the heat she’d recently grown accustomed to.
How many more men would she have to kiss before finding one who made her heart flutter and her body sing the way Sullivan did?
Sullivan had dozed off in the chair shortly after Lissa left. And he’d awakened only moments ago.
He hadn’t purposely turned the lights off. He just hadn’t gotten up to turn any of them on. Not even after Martinelli’s car pulled up.
And like a voyeur in the dark, Sullivan couldn’t help but watch the couple from his seat on his deck.
Lissa had kissed the guy. And not just a peck between friends.
All right. So it wasn’t the kind of kiss that got a man’s blood pumping,
