“New York.”
“Ah.Then you’ll be coming to the city.”
“I haven’t decided yet.”There was no harm in telling the truth.“I don’t really love going to those things.Moni—that’s the woman whohandles my work—says I have to be there, but I missed the last one and it didn’t hurt sales.”
“Why don’t you like shows?”
“I don’t know.”I looked down at the phone which I held more loosely now against my chest.“Maybe I’ve gotten un-used to big crowds and wearing high heels and nursing drinks that I didn’t want in the first place.”
His voice came lower, closer.“Art shows are notorious for stunning men.”
Once I could chalk up to coincidence.Not twice.He’d definitely heard what I’d said to Samantha.Looking up, I found his eyes no more than a foot away from mine.I searched them, looking for the taunting I was sure I’d heard, and indeed, hidden in their luminescent green depths was a flicker of amusement, but just a flicker.There was also a whole lot of curiosity.
It was the curiosity that started the quivers inside me this time, because it was honest and genuine and very serious.There were things about me that had Peter Hathaway guessing.
There were parts of me that liked it that way.
I made light of his remark.“Stunning men are a dime a dozen in New York.If they want to be seen, it’s either there or L.A.”
“Or here.”
It struck me then that he wanted to discuss what he’d overheard.I knew I could put him off, but I wasn’t sure it was worth the effort.“Okay.You heard what I said to Samantha.”
He didn’t try to deny it.“You’re right.Citymen often do depend on material things to enhance their virility.Maybe they feel that’s the only way they’ll be noticed among the hordes.Everywhere they turn, they face competition.They lead congested lives.Sometimes the raw basics are forgotten.”
“They?Don’t you consider yourself one of them?”
He gave a slow, almost somnolent shake of his head, and though his eyes were half-lidded, there was nothing lazy about their look.It was intense in a way that threatened to melt my thighs.The threat increased when he said in a deep, rough-edged voice, “I don’t need designer clothes or cars or condos.I never have.That’s not where I come from.”Even deeper.“It’s not where I want to be.”
I was having trouble catching my breath.A hard swallow didn’t help much.It’s not where I want to be.My voice was thready, still I couldn’t keep from asking, “Where do you want to be?”
His gaze smoldered.“Right here, on this floor, naked, with you.”
A bubble of air tripped down my wind pipes the wrong way.I gasped, then coughed and once again pressed a hand to my heart.In so doing, I realized that I still held the phone.Returning it to the kitchen was as good an excuse as any for leaving the hall, which had suddenly shrunk to suffocating proportions.I started to move—only to find that the cord went behind Peter’s back.
Keeping myself as far from him as I could while maintaining a measure of dignity, I tugged at the cord.“Excuse me.I’d better hang this up.If someone should be trying to call—”
I didn’t finish what I was saying, because Peter had hooked his elbow around my neck, grasped the spot where my ponytail was anchored to the crown of my head and gently pulled.With the tipping back of my head, I had no choice but to look at him.
“You’re frightened.”
“Of course, I’m frightened.A strange man walks into my house, which happens to sit high on an isolated bluff that would do most gothic novels proud, and informs me that right then he’d like to be on the floor, naked with me.What woman wouldn’t be frightened?”
“A woman who is honest about her sexuality.”
“No, a woman who is nuts.Where have you been?The days of sexual promiscuity are gone.Women don’t just sprawl on the floor and make love with men they don’t know.”
He was moving my ponytail in a light, caressive, undulating way.“You know me.”
“I do not,” I argued.Rays of warmth were spreading over my scalp.I fought their seduction with a spurt of anger.“Up until two hours ago, I’d never laid eyes on you.”
“But you know me,” he insisted in that same deep, confident, exquisitely male tone of voice.“You know that I don’t jump into things with my eyes closed.I know what I want and I knowhow to get it.I’d never force you to do something you didn’t want to do.I’d never hurt you.I wouldn’t make you pregnant, unless that was what we wanted.”He paused for a single, chiding moment.“And I don’t have AIDS.”
He’d covered everything, yet he hadn’t allayed my fears one bit.He was right; I knew that he wouldn’t force me, or hurt me, or give me something I didn’t want to have.Instinct told me he was more responsible than most.But I didn’t want to become involved with him.I didn’t want to become involved with any man.After all Adam had done for me, I owed him my loyalty.
For the first time, that loyalty was being threatened.Thatwas what frightened me, and the more frightened I became, the more my insides trembled as I looked up into Peter’s handsome face.And the more I trembled, the more I wanted to lean into his body, to take refuge in his arms from the danger that lurked.
Which was bizarre, given that he was the danger.
