If only the tune could go on forever, and he could dance into eternity with this woman who felt so right in his arms.
But all too soon the music began to wind down.
And once they returned to their table, they’d be cornered by their tablemates again.
Unless they didn’t return.
Dare he suggest they steal away and find a quiet corner, perhaps even go out to the lighthouse for a few minutes before they called it a night? It was still bright out, after all. It wasn’t as if he’d be proposing a moonlit stroll.
Nevertheless, such a suggestion wasn’t quite in the spirit of the rules they’d agreed to play by this evening. And tempting fate could be a mistake.
As long as he kept his impulses on a tight leash, though, there shouldn’t be any problem. Besides, it would be worth the risk if it bought him a clifftop stroll with the loveliest and most interesting woman he’d met in longer than he could remember.
The music stopped, but Devyn didn’t seem to be in any hurry to step out of his arms.
That was a positive sign.
Maybe.
“I suppose we have to return to Speaker’s Corner.” She finally eased away and offered him a wry smile.
He braced and went for broke. “I have a better idea.”
“I’m all ears.”
“It’s a beautiful evening, and there are benches along the path to the lighthouse. If you’d like a break from the wedding bustle and all the pontificating that seems to be prevalent at our table, we could wander outside and enjoy the view for a while.”
It was impossible to decipher the cavalcade of emotions paradingacross her face, but best case, he’d put the odds of an affirmative response at fifty-fifty.
So as he waited for her verdict, he psyched himself up for a no and prepared to mask his disappointment.
At last she gave a slow nod. “I’d like that. The musical score for this scene is great”—she motioned toward the band—“but the dialogue leaves much to be desired.”
He blinked.
She was willing to go outside? Be alone with him?
Amazing.
Also sobering.
Because her assent meant she trusted him to honor their agreement.
And he would. Even if it took every ounce of his willpower.
He nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Let me grab my purse. I’ll meet you by the door.”
While she wound through the crowd congregated on the dance floor and headed for their table, he made his way toward the exit—and made a vow.
No matter how tempting the setting or the ambiance or the beautiful woman by his side, he wouldnotoverstep.
No hand holding, no embracing, and certainly no kissing.
Even if, in other circumstances, a kiss would be a perfect end to a date with a woman who made every encounter feel like the Fourth of July.
27
