in his.
The surprise of his touch, the heat of it, nearly knocked the wind right out of her. As his thumb caressed her skin, her heart soared.
She could have pulled her hand away, she supposed. In fact, she really should have. But she was so taken aback by the bold move, so caught up in it, that she sought his gaze instead. And while she’d expected to see those impish dimples, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that reflected the whimsical game he was playing with his sister, something entirely different passed between them, something blood-stirring.
Something real? she wondered.
Too real to ponder, she decided. The handsome bachelor sitting across from her was playing a game, all right, but on her senses. And so was the romantic ambience—the candles, the red roses on the table.
She clicked her tongue and drew back her hand, trying her best to regroup. “You need to stop teasing her, Hector. Or you’ll really have some explaining to do. In fact, your phone will probably be ringing off the hook before you can unlock your front door.”
He smiled again, but the playful glimmer in his eyes had completely disappeared, and a shadow of something altogether different had taken its place.
Something serious, something heart-stirring. Something a woman in Samantha’s delicate condition had no business toying around with.
Then whatever had simmered in his eyes and had sizzled in the air around them faded as quickly as it had settled over her, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it all.
What had started out as an opportunity to tease Yolanda earlier this evening had morphed into something else the moment Hector had touched Samantha’s hand and looked into her eyes, and his playful plan had quickly fallen by the wayside.
He tried to blame it on the evening, on the romantic setting, but he feared there was more going on than that, which caused him to withdraw.
They finished their dinner without another touch, another heated gaze, but he’d been on edge for the rest of their time together.
After paying the bill, he orchestrated a brief stop at his sister’s table to thank her for the restaurant suggestion and to say goodbye. Then he and Samantha headed back to Primrose Lane. As they drove, he turned on the radio and found his favorite station. He thought a little music would eliminate the need to make conversation. And, for the most part, it worked, until Joe Cocker began singing “You Are So Beautiful.”
He parked in his driveway, still a bit off-balance and eager to end the evening and set his world to rights.
As he walked her home, the moon and stars were especially bright, and the scent of night-blooming jasmine laced the air. Apparently, in spite of his best intentions, a romantic mood was going to dog him all evening long.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said. “It was nice getting out, and the food was great.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Your sister was right. The Old World Bistro is wonderful.”
“Yes, it is.” And far more romantic than Hector had expected.
For a moment, he had the strongest compulsion to touch her, to cup her cheek, to press a good-night kiss upon her lips.
But that would be utterly foolish.
And so would lollygagging at her front door until he lost his resolve to keep things neighborly—and completely platonic.
“I’ll see you around,” he said, making a decision to steer clear of her for a while.
She nodded. “Take care.”
As he returned to his car so he could park it in the garage, he realized that Samantha had made a quick escape easy for him.
Apparently, she hadn’t read anything into that momentary rush when he’d touched her hand—thank goodness for that. Whatever crazy romantic notions that might have crossed his mind had been put to rest.
He heard her door close behind him, and it took all he had not to turn, to look over his shoulder.
But he didn’t want to give her any ideas. And he didn’t want things to become any more awkward between them. They were, after all, neighbors and bound to run into each other more often than not.
He pulled the car into the garage, then let himself into the house. He’d no more than opened the door, stepped into the living room and reached for the light switch when his phone rang. He took his time answering, assuming it was his sister on the line. Yolanda had been trying to hook him up with someone—anyone—for the past six months.
When he answered, Yolanda skipped the formalities of a greeting and launched right into the reason for the call. “Okay, Hector. What gives? Who is Samantha? Where did you meet her? And better yet, who’s the father of her baby?”
“Hang on a minute. I just walked in.” If he hadn’t actually struggled with some real-life attraction tonight, he would have considered her inquisition amusing. But as it was, he didn’t find anything remotely funny about it now.
He slipped the house keys into his pocket, took a seat in the easy chair and kicked off his shoes. “I was expecting your call.”
“Don’t give me a hard time. You can’t blame me for wondering. I’ve been trying to talk you into settling down forever. But maybe I shouldn’t have bothered. It looks like you might have already found someone.”
“Slow down, sis. Samantha is my neighbor. And since she’s a single mom, I thought she deserved a night out. We’re just friends.”
“She’s not pregnant with your baby?”
“Nope. ‘Fraid not.”
He could hear the disappointment in her sigh, and he decided to set her straight. “If the woman I got involved with was expecting my baby, my family would definitely know about it.”
“I guess you’re right. But you can be so secretive at times.”
“Relax. Samantha’s a nice woman. But no, we’re not involved.”
“I’m actually sorry to hear that.”
“I’m sure you are.”
Recently, Hector’s parents had joined his sister in pressuring him to remarry, to start a family and to enjoy the fruits of his labor. According to his brother, Diego, they were proud of him and his Horatio Alger success, but they were worried about him and his nonexistent social life.
He’d tried to explain to them that a woman and kids didn’t fit into his life, which was why his first marriage didn’t last.
“Samantha is a beautiful woman,” Yolanda said. “Aren’t you the least bit interested in her?”
A bit too much, he realized. “Come on, sis. She’s pregnant.”
“I guess that means you’re not attracted to expectant mothers, and I can see why you wouldn’t be. I was looking in the mirror one morning and realized I was as getting to be
