was a rich dark chocolate mousse served in a tiny pot with raspberries.
‘Now, this,’ Bailey said after the first mouthful, ‘is what you’d use to make any woman say yes.’
And then she realised what she’d said.
She put one hand to her face in horror. ‘Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.’
‘I’m afraid you did.’ His voice had grown slightly husky, and his pupils were huge, making his eyes look dark.
She blew out a breath. ‘Um. I don’t know what to say.’
‘If it helps, I didn’t actually make it with the intention of using it to seduce you,’ he said. ‘Only … you’ve put an image in my head now.’
‘An image?’
He nodded. ‘Of me feeding you this, one spoonful at a time.’
So much for telling herself to treat this as just dinner with a friend. Right now, he’d put exactly the same image in her own head and she could hardly breathe. Especially as she could vividly remember what it had felt like when he’d kissed her.
What would happen if she held out her spoon to him? Would he let her feed the rich chocolate mousse to him? Or would he lean forward and kiss her?
Time hung, suspended.
Which of them would make the first move?
Dark colour was slashed across his cheekbones. And she could feel the heat in her own face. The beat of desire.
Would he kiss her again?
‘I think,’ he said, his voice even huskier now, ‘we probably need coffee.’
And some distance between them so they could both calm down again. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
Though she couldn’t help watching him while he moved round the kitchen. For someone who was over six feet tall and so muscular, he was very light on his feet. He’d moved lightly when he’d danced with her, too. What would it be like if he …?
No.
Do not think of Jared Fraser naked, she told herself.
Except she couldn’t get the idea out of her head.
What would it be like, making love with Jared?
Her face heating even more, she tried to push the thought to the back of her mind and concentrated on her pudding. He did likewise when he’d finished making them both an espresso.
Silence stretched between them like wires, tighter and tighter.
They needed to break the tension now. Right now. Before they did something stupid. Like kissing each other until they were both dizzy. Right at that moment it was what she really wanted him to do. And she didn’t dare look at him in case he didn’t feel the same—or, worse, in case he did. She wasn’t sure which scared her more.
She sipped the coffee. ‘This is good,’ she murmured. Oh, for pity’s sake. Where was her stock of small talk when she needed it? Why couldn’t she talk to him about books and films and theatre?
Probably because her tastes were on the girly side and his would be decidedly masculine.
‘I’m glad you like the coffee.’ He paused. ‘Would you like to sit in the living room?’
‘Can I help you wash up first?’
‘No. That’s what a dishwasher is for,’ he said. Actually, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to work with him in the kitchen. It would be way too easy to brush against each other. Turn to each other. Touch each other …
She followed him into his living room. Everything was in neutral tones and comfortable. There were several framed photographs on the mantelpiece and she couldn’t resist putting her coffee down so she could look at them more closely. His graduation, three more graduation photographs of what had to be his brothers and his sister as they looked so like him, wedding photographs of his brothers and sister, and various family portraits—including one of him with a small child.
His daughter? Or maybe she was his niece or his godchild. If he’d had a daughter, he would’ve mentioned it when they talked about kids at Joni’s wedding, surely?
‘Your family?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Also known as the doctors at Lavender Lane Surgery.’ He smiled. ‘They try to poach me onto the team every so often, but I like what I’m doing now.’
Then she came to a picture of a football team. Judging by the haircuts, she’d say the picture was nearly twenty years old. So it was pretty obvious what that represented. His first ever international match. But something had puzzled her for ages. ‘So how come, given that you have a Scots accent and a Scots surname, you played for England?’
‘I was born in London,’ he said, ‘and my mum’s English—so technically I could have played for either team, but as I lived in London I guess it made more sense to play for England.’ He smiled. ‘Dad said if my team ever played the under-twenty-one Scotland team, his loyalties would’ve been really divided.’
‘Like in our house. Whenever England plays Italy in the World Cup the boys end up cheering both sides.’
She picked him out immediately in the middle of the photograph. Mainly because that was the one she’d seen when she’d snooped on the Internet—not that she was going to tell him that. ‘That’s you at seventeen?’
‘Yes—the first time I played for England.’ He smiled. ‘It was an amazing feeling. And when I scored that goal, it felt like all my birthdays and Christmases at once.’
‘I bet.’ On impulse, she turned round and hugged him.
Big mistake, because then his arms came round her, and he dipped his head to kiss her. His mouth was warm and sweet and tempting, and she found herself responding, letting him deepen the kiss.
He picked her up and carried her over to the sofa, still kissing her, then settled down with her on his lap.
Right at that moment she really wanted him to carry her to his bed. To take her clothes off, bit by bit, and kiss every inch of skin as he uncovered it. And then to touch her again, make her forget about everything in the universe except him …
But then reality rushed back in. She wasn’t on the Pill. She hadn’t needed to be, because she’d steered clear of relationships, let alone sex. Condoms weren’t always effective. If they made love, what if she got pregnant, and what if …? She swallowed hard. She could still remember being rushed into the emergency department, the crippling pain in her abdomen followed by an even worse pain in her soul. And it froze her.
Jared was aware that Bailey had stopped kissing him back. He pulled away slightly and he saw she looked incredibly panicky. Something had clearly happened in her past, something that had put absolute devastation in her eyes.
He stroked her face. ‘Bailey, it’s all right. We can stop right now and I’m not going to push you.’
But
