Lucas studied her for a moment. "When did you decide that Bradley was a creep?"
"The first time I met him."
"And Sophie knew your opinion?"
She shook her head. "Of course not, although sometimes I had to bite my tongue. She suspected that I didn't like him, but I would never have told her not to date him. Haven't you noticed that she immediately does the thing that she's been told not to do?"
Lucas laughed. "Yeah. I've noticed that pattern in her behavior."
"If you ever really want Sophie to do something, tell her the opposite," Mac said. "It's the forbidden-fruit syndrome. It works every time."
He could testify to that. His determination not to touch Mac was fueling his desire to do just that. And it had been growing steadily since he'd slid into the booth beside her – no, even before that, when she'd bent to get in the taxi and he'd caught a glimpse of that soft smooth skin at her navel, just below the spot where she'd knotted her shirt. He could reach out to brush his fingers along it right now.
It didn't help one bit that her hand was still in his. It would be so easy to raise her fingers to his lips, scrape his teeth over her knuckles and watch her eyes cloud. She was so responsive … so tempting. But he'd promised her a date, and he was going to give it to her.
When he caught himself staring at her mouth, he cleared his throat and said, "I'll have to remember that. About Sophie, I mean. The forbidden-fruit syndrome – the next time I want to handle her." Good grief, he was babbling. He had to focus. Ask a question. "Why are you so afraid of heights?"
Mac blinked and stared at him. "Why would you ask that?"
He settled himself against the back of the booth. "Because I want to know. You must have given it some thought – tried to analyze it."
She had, but it had been a long time since she'd dredged it up. She wasn't sure she wanted to now.
"C'mon. We're on our first date, remember. We get to ask questions so that we can learn more about each other. You can trust me, Mac."
The look in his eyes was so calm and patient, she found herself saying, "When I was five, my father built me a swing set in the backyard. There was a trapeze on it, and he'd been disappointed in me because I couldn't sit on it. I've never been very athletic."
"So?"
"My father had wanted a son. That's what my mother told me after he left us. Anyway, this one night I wanted to please him when he came home from work, and so I climbed up on the trapeze and tried to do this trick. I wanted to swing all the way around the trapeze bar like they do in the circus. I kept swinging higher and higher, but the trick wasn't as easy as it looked and I fell and broke my arm. My mother blamed my father for building the swing set, and my father was furious. The next day he packed up and left. Ever since then, I've been afraid of heights."
Lucas's fingers tightened on hers. "And you blamed yourself because your father left."
"At the time, I did. It was a long time before I understood that he'd found another woman he loved better than he loved my mother and me. She gave him the son he wanted. And eventually my mother found someone too. They're both very happy with their new families."
"And you're still afraid of heights."
She shrugged. "Fears aren't rational."
"No. It takes a brave person to battle them."
When he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, Mac felt something inside her dissolve and stream away. No one had ever had this effect on her. She'd never allowed it. But when he looked at her the way he was now, she couldn't seem to prevent it. And she wanted, more than anything, she wanted to know that she truly was the person he'd made love to in the lagoon. Sophie's advice streamed into her mind – that she should seduce him as herself.
Wasn't it her plan to do just that?
"What can I get for you folks?" The waitress, a thin woman with a blond ponytail, beamed a smile at them.
"What kind of beer do you have on tap?" Lucas asked. What if she wasn't the woman he'd made love to in the lagoon? What if she found out that Lucas was just being kind to his sister's friend? She'd forced herself to face other fears, but this—
She watched Lucas's eyes light with laughter at something the waitress said.
If she didn't at least try, she was the worst kind of coward. But she couldn't attack him the way Sally had. No, he would have to know it was Mac. She'd have to start with the questionnaire. When she pulled it out of her bag, her fingers were trembling.
The moment the woman hurried off, Mac smoothed it out on the table, "Before I drink any beer, I'm going to get you started on these questions."
"You know, I wish I had my camera with me. I'd like to capture that on film."
"What?" She glanced quickly around.
"The way you turn yourself from Mac, the woman who is enchanted because she might be sitting at a table where Hemingway wrote, into the focused, very serious-minded Dr. Lloyd."
"I didn't. I—"
"Oh yes, you did, the moment you pulled out that questionnaire. It wasn't quite as dramatic as Mr. Hyde turning into Dr. Jekyll. But I think I could definitely capture it on film. Your smile fades, then your eyes become darker, very intent, and I can almost hear the wheels start to turn in that pretty little head of yours."
As he talked, she studied him as closely as he was studying her. He was teasing her. She was almost sure of it. But there was something else in his eyes that she was equally sure was dead serious. "You're starting to make me feel like I have a split personality."
"Maybe you do, in a way. My theory is that you turn into the doc when you want to escape."
Mac stared at him. He was right. Why should it surprise her that he knew that about her?
"My question is, why? You're certainly not a coward."
"It's easier to be Dr. Lloyd." The words tumbled out before they'd been fully formed in her mind. "She can be clinically detached. She doesn't get hurt as easily."
For a moment she thought she saw a flash of understanding in his eyes.
Then the waitress appeared. "Two beers," she said as she slapped them on the table.
The moment the woman moved away again, Lucas said, "Okay, you can be the doc – for a few questions. Then I want Mac back."
Then I want Mac back. His words moved through her, weakening her and strengthening her at the same time. Blinking twice, she glanced down at the questionnaire and asked the first question she focused on. "Have you ever had anyone make love to you while you were blindfolded?"
"Blindfolded?"
"So that you can't see, and you can't tell what your lover is doing exactly. The sensual pleasure is incredibly heightened."
"Really."
She waited for a beat, then said, "You haven't answered the question. Have you ever let anyone make love to you while you were blindfolded?"
"No."
She nodded. "Because you want to stay in control."
"Perhaps. What's the next question?"
She glanced down. "What is your favorite position for sex?"
"My favorite position?"
She looked at him. "You know – on top, on the bottom, behind?"
"I know what you're asking. Let me see that." He pulled the papers closer and skimmed the page quickly. "Where did you get these questions?"
"I compiled them myself."
"And who else have you done this questionnaire with?"
"No one. I developed it especially for the man who would be my research partner."
"And that's me?"
She nodded and saw some of his tension ease. Was he jealous? Was that why he sounded so tense and annoyed? The possibility sent a little wave of pleasure through her. "You haven't answered the question yet." And she was suddenly curious. They certainly hadn't used any of the normal positions yet. "What is your favorite sexual position?"
Lifting his beer, he took a drink. "I pretty much like them all."
"That's not a very explicit answer."
He narrowed his eyes at her over the rim of his glass. "Give me another one. I'll try to do better."
She skimmed the page, then flipped to the next one. "Why don't I make it easier for you? There's a section here about sex toys. I'll just name them, and you can rate them on a scale of one to five – one meaning you've never used them and five meaning wow. All set?"
When she glanced up, she saw that his eyes had become very intent, and the dark, reckless gleam was back. Her throat went suddenly dry.
"I'll make it easy for you. Give them all a one. I've already told you I'm partial to reality."
Mac moistened her lips. Staring into Lucas's eyes for any length of time was paralyzing and, at the same time, exciting. She imagined a predator must look at his prey this way, just as he was about to spring. She forced her gaze back to the page and tried to focus. "No sex toys. Let me see … does it turn you on to watch your sex partner masturbate?"
When he didn't answer, she didn't meet his eyes. Already, she regretted the question. She didn't want to know, didn't want to picture him watching another woman pleasure herself.
When she finally did glance up, she found that he was close.
"I know that I would enjoy watching you touch yourself intimately." His hand moved to rest on her knee. "You could show me what you like, tell me what you'd like me to do. Explicitly."