That quickly, her easy smile died, and Tony knew she’dtaken a step too far.
“No,” she admitted quietly, “not napalm. Nothing smellsas bad as napalm.”
Tony wanted to pull her back, to have the chance to know where the land mines were before he walked this way again.
He knew what napalm smelled like, too. Especially on ahuman. Sometimes when he dreamed, he could still smell it.He bet she could, too.
“Where are the kids tonight?” he asked, his voice deliberately easy, his grip stronger.
“Movies,” she all but whispered, straightening with thecontrol she exerted over her past. “Jess is upstairs sulking.She’s had her first brush with teen reality.”
“Ah, exclusion by age, huh? Well, why don’twetake her somewhere?”
Claire turned away from the news finally, her featurescomposed, a hint of humor in her eyes. “Where?” sheasked, “If we show up at the movies, my son won’t speak tome for the rest of his life.”
Tony shrugged. “Have you eaten?”
She shook her head so that her hair whispered with itsquiet fire. “Don’t be silly. Peaches is over cooking for hischurch chicken dinner.’’
Tony gave her hand another squeeze. “Then let’s go. Ihaven’t eaten, either.”
“Good,” she acknowledged. “I didn’t want to go to themovies anyway. I’m not sure if I want to know what my sonhad in mind with your daughter.”
Tony groaned with real outrage. “I don’t suppose Pete can be counted on to chaperon.”
“Not if Johnny’s bribed him enough. And Johnny justgot his paycheck today.”
“Come on,” Tony insisted, pulling Claire to her feet. “If I’m gonna have to beat him up, I’d rather have the energyto do it.”
Claire laughed. For the first time since she’d turned to seehim standing there in the restaurant, laughed, her eyes delighted, her attention far away from the bloodshed on thescreen.
Tony hadn’t realized how it would affect him. He’d hopedfor it, worked for it. Even such a small laugh.
It sank into him like sunlight. Spread through him to curllike smoke in his chest, where it lay quiet and sweet.
A laugh. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d wanted this until he’d heard it again and realized how very much he’d missed it.
“Do it again,” he begged, realizing with a start that he still held her hand. That she stood there before him bemused and quiet, her eyes wide and her lips parted.
“Do what again?”
“Laugh. It sounds so good, Claire. You need to laughmore.”
She stilled, the blue of her eyes deepening with her surprise, her skin flushing a rosy tint.
“I have to have a good reason,” she admitted.
“All right. How’s this? I want to make love to you.”
Claire didn’t laugh. She didn’t even manage much of a smile. She couldn’t remember having used up so manyemotions in so few minutes, anger and anguish and fury andfear. Melancholy and, for the first time in so long, a yearning that had no place in her memories. Surprise and then this.
This what?
Anticipation. God, she was excited, and she didn’t knowwhat to do about it.
“Before or after dinner?” she asked, the glitter of temptation already spilling through her.
Tony’s grin was telling. Again he’d surprised himself, as well, it seemed.
