was taking a bite out of life. A very tactful compliment because she tended to snort when she really got to chuckling.
Nobody in their right mind would confuse her with a fashionista jet-setter. She’d never even been to Manhattan, much less Paris or Madrid. Her only major travel came when she was in junior high and made it to the finals of the National Spelling Bee in Washington, D.C., where she’d bombed out in the third round after misspelling cataclysm.
The wall clock ticked down to one minute and fifteen seconds. Hoping to quiet the excited thumping of her heart, she inhaled a deep breath and smelled the aromas of roast beef, mashed rutabaga and a freshly baked apple pie. She never attempted fancy cuisine when she cooked for Drew. He’d tasted the real thing.
She centered the silver candlesticks that had once belonged to her grandmother on the small round table in the dining area adjacent to the kitchen. Was this the atmosphere she wanted? Candlelit romance? Probably not. She had important news for Drew. She took the candlesticks back to their place of honor on her knickknack shelves.
Maybe she could wait to tell him after they’d made love. Just one more time. It was possible that she’d misjudged his probable reaction. He might be happy. He might surprise her and—
She heard his knock on the door and ran to open it. He looked even better than she remembered. The light from an antique-looking sconce in the wainscoted hallway picked out sunny highlights in his light brown hair. His complexion was tanned from being outdoors, and his deep-set green eyes shone with a warm, sexy light. Though he was wearing a simple black sweater and jeans, he had an air of casual elegance and absolute confidence.
He held out a bottle of wine. “I’d like to say that I bought this in Naples, but it’s from the duty-free shop at JFK.”
“That’s fancy enough for me.”
When he entered her apartment, the plain white walls and bland Scandinavian furniture seemed special and dramatic. The glow of his personal charisma lit up her boring bookshelves, making her collection of mysteries and spy thrillers look like esoteric tomes.
He set down the wine bottle on the table, caught hold of her hand and gave a tug. Offering zero resistance, she flowed into his embrace. Her body fit perfectly with his. She was a little over average height at five feet nine inches, but he stood over six feet and easily dominated her. Her head tilted back, welcoming his kiss. When his lips pressed firmly against hers, her internal temperature shot up to a thousand degrees. Her blood was hotter than molten lava.
No one had ever affected her like this. She hated to think of what her life would be like without him.
He ended the kiss with a gentle caress that slid down her back and finished with a light swat on her bottom.
“I brought you a present,” he said. “Direct from Switzerland.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I didn’t have wrapping paper.” He reached into his back pocket and held up a wristwatch. “There was a bit of an accident. It got wet but seems to be working okay.”
She held the watch in her hand. A plain beige leather band and a silvery face with the red Swiss cross as a logo. “It’s beautiful. And practical.”
“Like you.”
“I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was this or a Swiss Army knife. I liked the watch better.”
She peeled off her old watch, replaced it with his gift and held up her wrist. “I’ll never be tardy again.”
He sniffed the air. “Do I smell pot roast?”
“And potatoes and buttery rutabaga. We can start with a salad.”
“I’d rather start with the meat.”
Not surprising. Drew was definitely a carnivore. He trailed her into the kitchen, opened the drawer beside the sink and found the corkscrew. It pleased her that he knew his way around her apartment.
“Tell me about Switzerland,” she said.
“I was covering competitions in extreme skiing. Off-piste is what they call it. These skiers go way out of bounds on glacier ridges with sheer vertical drops. I gave it a try on a snowboard and almost got caught in an avalanche.”
“Geez Louise, Drew.” She gaped. “Why would you take that kind of risk? Why would anybody?”
“For the rush.” He pulled the cork out of the wine. “And the views are pretty damn spectacular. Nothing but snow and sky and mountains. In Zermatt, I could see the Matterhorn.”
“I’d be just as happy to look at a postcard,” she said as she served up the salad.
“That’s because you haven’t tried the real thing. There’s a thrill that comes from challenging yourself, pushing the limits.”
While she set the salad plates on the table, he went back into the kitchen. She watched as he reached up to the top shelf in her cabinet for the wineglasses. His broad shoulders tapered to a lean torso and a tight butt. Talk about a spectacular view!
“The way you live,” she said, “it’s like you’re on a continuous roller coaster. I’m more of a carousel person.”
He poured two glasses and handed one to her. His head cocked to one side as he studied her. “There’s something different about you. New hairstyle?”
She shrugged. “Nope.”
“Your glasses,” he said. “You aren’t wearing your glasses.”
She reached up to adjust the frames that weren’t there. “I guess I’m not. That’s odd. My vision seems okay without them.”
“I like it.” He clinked his wineglass against hers. “Let’s drink to your eyes.”
As soon as the glass touched her lips, she remembered. She shouldn’t be drinking. She lowered the glass.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She could have made up an excuse, but she’d never been good at lying. Her lips pinched together. She didn’t want to tell him. Not yet. “Golly, I just don’t—”
“Come on, Melinda. Take a sip. Are you afraid that you’ll get drunk and lose control?”
“Don’t tease.” She wasn’t in the mood for banter.
“I promise not to ravish you until after dinner. Have some duty-free wine.”
“I can’t,” she blurted. “I’m pregnant.”
The look on his face was one of sheer panic.
Drew drained his wineglass in one gulp. He made his living with words, describing athletic feats with precision and flair, but he couldn’t think of a damned thing to say.
