Package Deal(20)

He looked up at her. “You aren’t. It was my choice. Had I not come for you, I’m sure the police or fire department would have. They’re evacuating all of that part of town. Besides—” he got up and approached her, a smile brightening his face, reflected in his eyes— “this way, we can have some time together, get to know each other better. We can think of tonight as our second date.” Marcus took her hand in his. “Is she asleep?”

“Yes. It didn’t take long for her to conk out.”

“Good.” He brushed an errant strand of hair off her cheek and reached for her.

She went willingly into his arms, the slow thumping of his heart reassuring against her breast. Could he tell how fast her heart was beating? He kissed her cheek and when she turned her face to look at him, he kissed the small of her neck and then her lips.

She relished his proximity, his attentions, and her quickening heat. How long had it been since she’d been this close to a man? She kissed him back and thrilled to his response. She let his hands—how warm they were, just like at the movies—start to move over her shoulders and arms. Her heart thudded faster as she felt the tension in his back muscles, but when his hands moved to her waist and slipped under her blouse, she pulled away.

“I don’t think we should be doing this. As you said, it’s only our second date.”

He looked puzzled. “Why do I get the impression you want to? Why are you holding back?”

“I need to be very sure of myself, for one thing.” Her own hands slid across his chest, brushing his skin where his shirt was open. She was reluctant to move away from him, aware of the tension her touch created in him. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, the blue of his eyes reminding her of a pool of infinite depth.

“I’d ask you another question, but maybe another time.” He paused. “Would you like some tea? My stove’s gas, so it works even without electricity. A book to read, maybe, even if it’s only by candlelight?”

“Tea. That’s a good idea. Even after drying off, I feel a little chilly.”

“Sit by the fire, then. I’ll get it.” He went into the kitchen while she stood with her back to the fire, warmed by its glow and reassured by the cracking and popping of the wood. When he handed her a mug, she grasped it in both hands.

“Mm. That’s better—heat inside and out.” She smiled at him. “I really appreciate you coming to get us. Or did I tell you that already?”

He looked up from where he’d taken a seat. “You did. And, you’re welcome. My students, the ones who have a class from you, seem to think you’re a great addition to the English department. We can’t have you leaving just because of a freak storm. I consider it my civic duty to keep you safe.” He smirked and then gave her a slow wink, replete with sexual implications. “Besides any personal reasons I might have.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his remark and took a seat closer to him on the couch. “Regardless of your motives, I’m glad you did. I’m sure this is nicer, more comfortable, than the armory.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

“I’ll take that as a thank-you,” he murmured, before putting an arm around her shoulder and kissing her back. When she lay her head on his shoulder, he asked, “Tired?”

“It’s been a long day—more exciting, more stressful than I expected.”

“Close your eyes then. Relax.” He brushed a hand against her cheek. “How’s that?”

“Nice,” she whispered, imagining falling asleep next to him, his arms around her, cushioning her, wishing he would kiss her. As if he’d read her thoughts, she felt his lips brush hers, then come back to explore her mouth again, if only briefly. For an instant, she found herself comparing his gentle kiss to Dylan’s, always so demanding. She lay still for several minutes, enjoying the quiet broken only by the occasional pop and hiss from the fire, the warmth of his body next to her. Then she opened her eyes, afraid of what she might initiate if she stayed there much longer. “I need to see how Cece’s doing.”

“Take a candle with you.” He hesitated for a moment then rose and walked her toward the door of the bedroom and kissed her once more. Was it her imagination or did she detect a desire to do more—in him as well as herself—before she left him and shut the door behind her?

She hung up her clothes and slipped under the covers next to Cecelia, who was spread-eagled across the bed. She slid her daughter over a bit and lay there. Part of her wanted to go back out there to be with him, but the way her body reacted to him told her she was courting danger—like jumping off a cliff and not knowing how far she would fall before landing—and into what? The images in her brain kept rocketing back to Marcus, the sensations his touch inspired, doubly intense now that she was alone. He was right. She did want more, but part of her feared going too quickly into a relationship. They worked at the same college. What if it didn’t work out? How would that affect their seeing each other—at meetings, on campus? Her thoughts took her back to Dylan, before their graduation and his leaving for the Army, and again when he returned and left his legacy in Cecelia.Her grief at his death and her ongoing anxiety about raising a child alone—in spite of her mother’s disapproval, voiced nearly every time they saw each other—reminded Amanda of her determination never to rely on another man.