The ringlets draped over her arms, and he touched one. “Your hair is so soft, just like silk.”
She reached out and touched his arm. His desire all but thumped against the underside the table. Their food arrived and although he enjoyed the meal, he couldn’t remember what anything tasted like or what they’d actually talked about during dinner. He was entranced by her smile, her laugh, and each time she bit her lip. He grabbed the table to stop himself from leaning across and sampling her mouth reddened by the wine. He had hoped it would be possible to contain his longing, but he was wrong. The depth of his desire set him on fire. He was beyond concentrating on anything but the most mundane of activities.
He’d promised to show her around town but at that moment, he wanted to do nothing of the sort. There were two hotels that he could think of and he wanted to check into a room with her. His cock strained against his trousers. He adjusted his pants but he’d hardly be able to hide this state of affairs.
He paid the bill and took hold of her hand. He all but pulled her out of the restaurant.
“Are you all right?”
He swallowed and stared at his hand on her arm. There was no friction or drag in his flight of desire. He was on a straight path to taking complete possession of her. He’d burn up from the heat if he didn’t slow down. He felt incoherent standing next to her and closed his eyes, gathering every ounce of self-control.
“Yes, I’m fine.” He combed his fingers through his hair and raised his eyes her. “No. That’s a lie.”
Chapter Nine
Claire could see he was in pain. It couldn’t be the food they’d eaten. She felt fine. His face paled under his tan and sweat beaded on his forehead.
“I’ll take a rain check on the tour.” She was unable to put aside her concern. “Are you ill?”
He rubbed his temple. “Claire—” He stopped when his car pulled up. “Damn.”
Dustin opened her door and arranged her dress. This time he didn’t reach across to get the seatbelt. “Do you know where the belt is located?” His voice sounded strained.
She felt between the seats. “Yes, I’ve got it.”
He got in and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere?”
“What about the lake?”
He nodded and drove out of the parking lot. She focused on seeing the town this time. Neighborhoods that were once dilapidated had undergone renovations. Several blocks of brightly colored small homes surrounded by picket fences and gardens made up the neighborhood around the restaurant.
“So many changes.” She regarded the houses as they passed by her gaze. “Positive changes, I mean.”
“This section of town has been highly sought after. It’s gained a reputation as artsy.”
The shops and galleries reminded her of a smaller version of Ballard back in Seattle. Even a prestigious private school was settled on the corner, its fenced yard filled with modern playground equipment.
“They opened a Day School?”
“The first private school. Besides the catholic parochial school.”
Whatever had come over him didn’t seem as serious now, and he had relaxed while driving.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. I wish I could blame the food or restaurant, but that’s not it. Claire, I don’t want to rush you. I keep telling myself to give you time. I’ve no right to take advantage of you, especially when you’re mourning your parents, and next week or next month you’d regret getting involved.”
He turned into the entrance of the park. The lake was further down the road. The dark water bordered by clumps of cattails hadn’t changed. They’d both learned how to ski on the lake during grade school. They had spent many afternoons fishing and catching tadpoles. As far back as she could remember, he had been part of her life.
“No. I’m not using you to bear this burden. I know what you’re saying. This is a strange time, but why not? Out of one tragedy, at least there’s something that reaffirms what my parents believed in. I think they always wanted me to give you another shot. I’ve grown up since leaving home. I’ve got my own secrets and my own dreams. I’m trying to find my way too. I’ve changed from the girl that left home filled with unrealistic expectations.”
She wanted to tell him about her secret writing but didn’t know if he’d care or understand. Would he think she was love-starved? She wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of being an erotica author but she’d decided this was her passion. It might not have been her decision to share her stories with the world, but it was happening and she could sulk or rejoice. There was no denying part of her was overjoyed even if she was nervous. She no longer needed anyone’s approval. Dustin had never been one to be judgmental. Maybe she could trust him to give her the freedom to be her own person.