Standing Outside The Fire

“So we think alike on some things,” Boone said. “We each carry flashlights for emergencies.”

“Even if it’s as dark as a cave, I’m eating this steak,” she declared.

“So am I. Here comes our waiter.”

The waiter approached with a candle in a hurricane glass and Boone noticed that other waiters were bringing out candles.

“This is just a temporary power outage,” the waiter said as he moved glasses and set the candle in the center of the table. “A transformer has blown, and they hope to restore power soon. Can I get you anything else?”

“We’re fine,” Boone said, watching the white-coated man refill their wineglasses. If she was getting any kind of buzz from drinking her wine, it wasn’t apparent to him. She was as guarded about her personal life as she had been when they sat down.

He touched the flashlights. “You’re a practical person.”

“Where were we when the storm interrupted the conversation?” she asked, once again moving the conversation away from herself.

“You said you thought I was an only child or had sisters. You’re half-right,” he replied. “I have sisters and brothers. There were nine of us.”

“Wow! I’ll bet you’re the oldest.”

“That’s right and now I know better than to pursue why you think that,” he replied. “If I guess your first name, would you tell me if I’m right?”

“Of course not! We have a bet that I would tell you, not that you’d guess. Remember? I want my chocolate bar. I’ll take it up to my room and curl up in bed with it and read and listen to the rain,” she said, sipping her red wine.

“I can think of some other things that would be more exciting to curl up in bed with than a chocolate bar and a book.”

“I’m sure you can. You’re not a big reader, then.”

“I like to read. I just like other things to curl up in bed with.”

“So what do you like to read?”

He named his favorite authors, and she nodded about some. As conversation shifted to books, he discovered how she spent a chunk of her time.

“Here comes our waiter again,” she said.

“We expect to have electricity soon,” the white-coated man said when he paused at their table. He had a sack in his hand and produced a bottle of white wine. “Compliments of the house. We’re sorry for any inconvenience tonight because of the lights.”

“Thanks,” Boone said when the waiter returned the bottle into the sack and set it on the table.

When they finished eating, Boone had the dinners put on his room bill in spite of her protests. They talked about books a few more minutes until he took her hand. “Let’s go to the lounge. I can hear music, and we can dance.”

She inhaled and he saw a flicker of eagerness in her eyes and he knew she was debating whether or not to accept his offer. Still holding her hand, he stood and pushed away his chair. “C’mon, mystery lady. A few dances will be a pleasure. You’re safe with me.”

“I think you’re the biggest danger I’ve encountered in a long, long time,” she said softly.

Two

“That’s progress,” her handsome escort replied. “Knowing I’m dangerous to you just moved me out of ‘fun’ and ‘good’ for the evening.”

Knowing she should say no yet unable to resist, Erin picked up her flashlight and purse and handed him his flashlight. When her fingers brushed his, she drew a sharp breath. The slightest contact with him tonight had been electric. He was irresistible and he knew it and she was certain he had left an abundance of broken hearts strewn in his past. With all her being she was trying to keep a wall between them because there was a volatile chemistry that had sparked to life the first moment she had looked into his blue eyes in the hotel elevator.

He was so incredibly handsome! All evening it had been an effort to keep from staring at him.

In the dark lounge, he led her to a corner table. The place was half filled and a few couples circled the dance floor. Two walls were dark paneling with hunting pictures, mirrors backed the bar and the fourth wall was French doors opening to a terrace. Each table had a candle, and the entire bar was in semidarkness, yet with the candlelight, the room held a cozy atmosphere.

She watched while her new acquaintance ordered glasses of white wine. Golden candlelight flickered over his well-shaped hands. Her gaze drifted up. The yellow candlelight highlighted his prominent cheekbones and threw the hollows of his cheeks into shadows. His sexy, thickly lashed bedroom eyes guaranteed easy conquests and his full lower lip hinted at sensuality.

When she looked at his thick, wavy brown hair that was neatly trimmed above the strong column of his neck, she knew she was openly staring, but he was the handsomest man she had ever known. Only she didn’t really know him and she was wary of his flirting. All her life the only men she had dated were men she had known as friends. She never had blind dates, had never had a flash encounter that resulted in something more.

A short-sleeved navy sport shirt revealed this man’s impressive muscles that indicated he either worked out daily or was into a job that took a lot of physical labor.

She already knew his broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist and trim hips. The sexy, charismatic man was dangerously appealing.

Unaccustomed to alcohol in any degree, she knew she should stop drinking wine, because she needed her wits to deal with such a heady combination of male sexuality and charm. And she suspected he was intent on seduction.

Her day had been dreadful. When she had flown into town, she had been exhausted and hungry only to be accosted in the hotel parking lot, adding to the miserable day. Encountering her dinner companion in the elevator with his cocky charm had made her smile and relax. All his talk about how gorgeous she was—she was certain he heaped the same compliments on any woman he dated. Still it was nice to be the object of those compliments.

She had wanted to get off the elevator and forget about him, but the man was too handsome to easily erase from memory. And in the elevator there had been sparks of attraction between them. She had felt it and she knew he did, but then, he probably experienced sparks with most of the females he encountered.

The moment she had stepped into the restaurant and spotted him across the room, her pulse had leaped.

Maybe it was the wine, but she felt exhilarated. All her tiredness and worries of the day had evaporated, and she had appeased hunger with a delicious steak dinner.

He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s dance.”

Taking his hand, tingles sizzling from that impersonal contact, she went with him to the dance floor, stepping into his arms and onto dangerous ground. Now she was in his arms, and every nerve in her body quivered. She could detect a tangy aftershave. Her thighs brushed his thighs. She was held lightly against him and she could feel the warmth of his body.

Giddy and breathless, she told herself it was the effects of the wine, but she knew it wasn’t. It was the man.

Dancing was paradise, and her partner was fascinating. How long since she had danced? She couldn’t remember. Probably last Christmas’s barn dance at the Kellogg ranch.

His arm tightened slightly, pulling her closer. They danced together with an ease that surprised her. At five-eight, she usually didn’t have to look up to men she was with, but she did now. He was well over six feet tall.

The next song was a fast number, and he swung into it without asking her. She danced around him, caught in the intensity of his blue-eyed gaze, knowing she enticed him just as he excited her. He caught her and spun her around, leaning over her, and for an instant they were frozen as she clung to him and gazed up into his eyes and saw the longing in their depths.

He swung her up, and they finished the dance and then began a slow dance.

“My head is spinning.”

“It’ll stop spinning with this music. Now it’s slow, deliberate, languid,” he drawled softly, his breath fanning her hair as he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.

She should push against him and step back to keep the dancing as impersonal as possible, but it was heaven to be held in his arms. She closed her eyes to enjoy herself without reservation. She was dancing with the most handsome, appealing man she had ever known. And the sexiest. She didn’t even know his name and they would soon part and never see each other again, but right now she was going to dance and enjoy another hour with him.

How long since she had been on a date and had experienced as much excitement? She knew the answer had to be calculated in years, not days or months. Which made her all the more vulnerable to the man’s magnetism.

He wanted to know her name, and instinctively she realized for her own well-being, she should keep a barrier between them. The wine had been a mistake because she knew her judgment had slipped or she wouldn’t be here, wrapped in his arms, slow dancing with him.

His arms tightened just a fraction, and they were barely moving now.