Seduce Me Tonight (21 page)

Slowly, I loosened my grip on the ropes at my wrists and sank back onto the bed, feeling the spread of moisture beneath me. Aidan was still kneeling behind me, though his erection had softened and slipped from my body. I was feeling relaxed and drowsy and wanted him to untie me and cuddle up on the bed.

Instead, he smacked my ass. Hard. I yelped, jerking at my bonds.

‘What the hell was that for?’ I asked, straining to see him over my shoulder.

He laughed. ‘We have all night and you don’t want to watch movies. You don’t think I’m going to stop with just one round, do you?’

Despite my post-orgasmic bliss, I felt a shudder dance along my spine. ‘Um, no?’

He moved from between my legs and stood up. I watched as he pulled on his jeans and tucked his damp cock into his pants. ‘“Um, no” is right,’ he said, sounding very, very sure of himself. ‘I’m not even
close
to being finished with you. I might have to call Catherine and see if she’ll keep the boys tomorrow night, too.’

I knew he wouldn’t do that. At least, I didn’t
think
he would.

‘What are you doing? Where are you going?’ I asked, as he moved towards the door. My muscles strained as I twisted to see him, but he was just out of my line of sight.

‘To finish making dinner for you,’ he said. ‘You’re going to need your strength later. I promise.’

I groaned, and it was
almost
pure anticipatory pleasure. I’d unleashed a beast. I had no doubt he would make me regret it for just a little while before he let me revel in it.

‘Shit, shit, shit!’

I couldn’t see the person who was screaming, but I could hear her. Hell, everyone could hear her. It was a Friday night and the coffee shop was crowded and the line was out the door. No one was at the counter, but I assumed the voice belonged to the only person working.

‘Have you been waiting long?’

I turned to the man behind me and shrugged. ‘Not terribly. But I haven’t seen anyone yet.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘I don’t have time for this,’ he muttered, though I didn’t think he was talking to me. ‘I have a date.’

So did I, I thought, as he stalked around the growing line and out into the night. The woman who had been behind him just shrugged and we shared a commiserating smile.

‘I’m sorry, can I take your order?’

The voice belonged to a young woman who looked as frustrated as she sounded. ‘We’re extremely short-staffed tonight.’

‘I see. Don’t worry about it, it happens.’

She nodded absently as she noted my order and rang me up. ‘Yeah, and it keeps happening to me. We had one girl just take off for Florida a few weeks ago and, instead of firing her, the manager said he’d pick up her extra hours but then he got the flu or pneumonia or something and no one wants to work on Friday night …’

She kept talking as she walked the length of the counter to the espresso machine, then talked through the making of my drink even though I couldn’t hear her over the sound of the machine or the impatient crowd behind me. I wondered if the manager had any idea that his lone Friday-night employee was losing her mind.

I collected my drink from the end of the counter and found a seat at one of the tall tables along the bank of windows. I’d be able to see him coming – which sounded more ominous than it really was. But I was nervous as hell and needed the advance warning to collect myself.

Full dark had fallen while I’d waited for my coffee. Now I sat looking out at the streetlights and the headlights going by, my face reflected back to me. I wondered what others thought when they looked at me, what they saw that I didn’t see. Long dark-blonde hair pulled back at the nape of my neck, my mother’s high cheekbones and aquiline nose, my father’s piercing blue eyes and long, lanky body. The only people who ever told me I was beautiful were the ones who had loved me – others said I was statuesque or striking. When I was in college, still awkward and coltish in my body, I’d been told by a photographer that I could be a model. But I think he’d only said that to get in my pants. It hadn’t worked. I was many things, but I wasn’t vain or easy. No, I was incredibly self-critical and stubborn.

Out of habit, I glanced at my wrist, forgetting once again that my mother’s watch – which had belonged to her mother – was at the jeweller’s, the clasp being repaired. I fished through my purse, hunting for my cell phone to check the time, when I heard his voice behind me.

‘Sorry I’m late.’

His voice was a balm for my nerves, though I suppose it should have had the opposite effect. I smoothed my hands over my skirt and smiled. ‘Hey. It’s OK.’

Denny sat down next to me, looking the same as he had the day we split up. The same wavy brown hair that was a shade darker than his eyes. The same kind face, the same athletic body that looked as good in sweats as a suit. Seeing him was like letting my eyes settle on a field of wildflowers after a drive through the crowded city – comforting, soothing, familiar. It had only been six months, but I felt like he was a memory from another lifetime. I had been some other person then. But he hadn’t changed at all.

He studied me and, unlike the musings about what strangers might see when they look at me, I knew what he saw. I was thinner than I had been, but not in a good way. Stress makes me forget to eat and, for the six months I’d been with him and the three months after we broke up, I’d steadily lost weight. I was better now, eating healthier, coming back to myself. It felt good.

I let him look his fill, waiting for the questions that would come. Of course he would have questions. I’d walked out on him after we’d had sex that last time and I hadn’t looked back. Hadn’t taken his calls or responded to his texts and emails. After a month, he gave up. I knew he would. Denny wasn’t the type to chase after a woman once she made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with him. And though I couldn’t say the words, my actions said I was done.

‘So, did you want to stay here or go someplace else?’

I blinked at him. I’d expected questions, but not that one. ‘It’s up to you. I thought this would be a good place to talk.’

Just then a group of seven or eight people came in, filling the already crowded coffee shop to capacity as they squeezed in along the counter beside us and chattered about an art class they were taking. I nodded as Denny cocked his head toward the door. I followed him out, tossing my still hot coffee in the trash can. I hadn’t wanted it anyway. I caught the eye of the poor lone barista as we left and mouthed, ‘Good luck.’ She shook her head and threw up her hands. I knew the feeling.

It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness outside and I nearly bumped into Denny as he walked to the curb. ‘Where are we going?’

He tucked my hand in the crook of his arm, a true gentleman in every sense of the word. ‘I don’t know. Let’s start with my car. We can at least talk in peace there.’

We walked in silence to the parking lot tucked behind a row of restaurants and shops across the street. Denny keyed the remote to unlock the doors on his Land Rover, let me in on the passenger side and closed the door with a resounding thud. My heart responded with a jump-beat of its own. Nerves. Just nerves. This was both a reunion and a confrontation and it was impossible to tell from Denny’s demeanour how it would turn out. I knew how I wanted it to go, but I also knew I didn’t really deserve another chance.

Denny climbed into the driver seat, closed the door and put the key in the ignition. The stereo blared to life, a hard-driving rock song filling the interior of the SUV. He adjusted the volume until it was barely audible and looked at me.

‘It’s good to see you, Alanna.’

‘Thanks.’ I smoothed my hands down my skirt again. ‘It’s good to see you. I’m sorry for how I ended things.’

He cocked his head at me. ‘I wouldn’t say you ended it. You just disappeared.’

I couldn’t argue with him. ‘I know. And I’m sorry. I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry.’

He leaned his head back on the seat rest and closed his eyes. ‘I don’t need an apology. I just need to know why you’re back.’

‘I wanted to see you,’ I said, though that didn’t begin to describe what I wanted. ‘I want you back in my life.’

There, I’d said it. Or at least the most important part of it. If he didn’t want anything to do with me now – and I couldn’t blame him if he didn’t – he would tell me and I could walk away knowing it was truly a closed chapter in my life. And cursing myself for not doing things differently.

‘OK. But how do I know you won’t disappear again?’

I took a deep breath. ‘Because I’m not married any more and have no reason to leave.’

I waited for an explosion, but it didn’t come. He simply nodded slowly. ‘You’re a free woman now?’

‘Yeah.’ I stared at him, willing him to meet my eyes and see how sorry I was. For everything. ‘I’m sorry I never told you – it wasn’t fair to you, or to him. But I didn’t know what to do. I was miserable. Hell, he was miserable. I thought I just needed to have a little fun –’

He turned to look at me again. ‘And I was the fun?’

I realised I was rambling on like the barista at City Coffee and closed my mouth before I made things worse. I nodded.

‘Did you tell him about me?’

I shook my head.

‘Why not?’

I held my hands up in a no-answer gesture. ‘I thought you’d be gone after a few weeks. I thought maybe I could make peace with my marriage, with his lack of interest in …’

‘Sex?’ he filled in.

‘In me. He had no interest in me, in any way.’

‘So I was the ego boost you needed and then you took off,’ he surmised. ‘But you ended up divorced anyway.’

‘No, you weren’t an ego boost,’ I said.

He looked at me sharply, scepticism in his expression.

‘OK, maybe at first. But after a little while –’

‘We were together for six months,’ he reminded me. ‘At some point, didn’t you think I should know you were married and unavailable? I thought you were just putting in a lot of hours at work.’

‘I was!’ I took a breath and let it out. I was getting defensive. ‘I
was
working a lot. I didn’t want to be at home and I didn’t want to get in even deeper with you. So I stayed at the shop.’

It was true. The floral shop had taken off since I’d opened it two years ago and it had been easy enough to hide there, away from Richard, my husband of five years, and Denny, my lover who had become so much more. It had been the coward’s way out of a difficult situation.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked quietly.

‘I was ashamed.’

‘I would have understood.’

I turned in the seat so that I was facing him. ‘Denny, I didn’t understand. I wasn’t that person, that woman. That’s not who I am.’

‘Apparently, it is,’ he said dryly.

‘But I didn’t want to be that person. I ended it with you and put my energy into trying to make my marriage work.’

‘What happened?’

‘Richard told me I was smothering him. Then he told me he had a girlfriend and wanted a divorce.’ I laughed, sounding more bitter than relieved, though I had felt tremendous relief at the time.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I’m not. I am just sorry I hadn’t had the nerve to end my marriage myself when it was clear neither of us was happy.’

‘Yeah, that probably would’ve been for the best.’

I hadn’t known Denny long – but I had expected a stronger reaction from him. We’d been well on our way to getting serious, which had made my life even more complicated as I tried to dance around Denny’s questions about why he couldn’t spend the night at my house. I’d told him I lived with a roommate who wasn’t comfortable with overnight guests. It hadn’t been a lie – nothing I had ever told him had been a lie and he’d never asked me outright if I’d been married – and yet I’d been living a lie for the entire brief time we were together.

‘You don’t seem angry,’ I said, wondering if I should say anything at all or leave well enough alone. ‘You don’t even seem surprised I was married.’

‘I
was
angry,’ he said. ‘But first I was hurt and confused. Then I found out you were married and I was furious. Then I let it go.’

‘You found out?’ My voice was rising again. ‘How? When? Why didn’t you say something?’

He laughed. ‘You know what I do, Alanna.’

I was confused. ‘You work for the Department of Defence. So?’

‘Sweetheart, I’m former Army Intelligence. I’m suspicious of everyone, everything,’ he said. ‘I knew something was up the first night you wouldn’t let me come over to your house. I just didn’t want to believe it.’

‘So you figured I was married and didn’t bother to say anything?’ It was completely irrational, but I felt like I’d been deceived. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

‘What was I going to say?’ He shook his head. ‘It was your burden to carry. If you’d wanted me to know, you would’ve told me. You forgot to take your rings off once, the night of that crazy rainstorm. I surprised you at the shop one night when you were closing and took you to dinner. You were wearing your rings when you let me in, then they were gone when you went in the back to get your stuff. Remember?’

I did remember. Not that he’d seen my rings, but the rainstorm. And after. We’d driven to his condo and walked to the Italian restaurant a couple of blocks away. The rain started coming down in sheets as we were leaving, making it impossible to even see the street. We waited for it to let up but it never did. We’d started making out there under the awning of the closed restaurant. I’d been anxious to get home before Richard started worrying, but Denny’s kisses down my neck on the deserted street had set my blood on fire until I’d forgotten all about Richard. We’d made a run for it to his house, getting soaked in the process, and he’d stripped off my clothes as soon as we got in the door. My wedding rings had been tucked in my purse by then and I was his – all his. At least for another hour.

‘Remember?’ he asked again.

I nodded. ‘I remember that night. And a lot of others. It was the best time I’d had in a long, long time.’

‘You made a lot of mistakes,’ he said. ‘After a few weeks, I had a pretty good idea you were married. When you took off, I had to know for sure.’