Whistling a perky tune, he turned the surrey around and headed back toward Amanda’s. He was halfway there before he became aware of the song he was whistling—Taking a Chance on Love. He stopped in mid-verse and swore to himself. Damn, he wasn’t going to fall in love with the woman again. He merely wanted to kiss her.
Snapping the reins over the mule’s back, he urged her forward.
He felt a keen sense of loss when he stepped into the antique shop. Amanda was nowhere in sight.
Maxine made a beeline for him. “Hi there, good-looking. What can I get for you? As if I didn’t know.” She fluffed her hair and winked.
Tanner chuckled. “Is clairvoyance one of your talents?”
“I don’t have to be clairvoyant to know you’ve come back to see Amanda. Am I right, or what?”
“You’re right. When I left her here earlier, there was something I forgot to do.”
“She’s in the back room, but I’m not so sure she’ll be glad to see you. She’s trying to get you out of her system.”
Tanner knew he should be happy about that news, but he wasn’t. Not by a long shot. As a matter of fact, he reacted the same way old Josephine would if she had a burr under her saddle. He got ornery as hell.
“She is, is she? We’ll see about that.” He barely noticed Maxine’s smile of devilish glee as he settled his ten-gallon hat firmly on his head and stalked toward the back room.
Amanda didn’t see him at first. She was leaning over a trunk, her slacks stretched across her backside in a way that would set angels to thinking about sin. Tanner leaned against the doorway and took it all in. He remembered every curve and hollow of those hips—and exactly how they felt. Satiny, smooth, and firm. His mouth went dry. Reaching up, he swiped his hand across his brow. Maybe he should have kept on going toward home.
Amanda leaned deeper into the trunk, muttering to herself. Something about “damned puny buttons and froufrou.” Tanner wasn’t certain what she’d said. Nor did it matter. That last move had outlined her lingerie lines in clear relief. No panty line, merely the imprint of lace high up the side of her thigh. A teddy, he thought. Underneath those slacks she had on a teddy with French-cut sides. He wondered if it was black lace. Sweat beaded his upper lip, and he didn’t even bother to wipe it away.
He remembered the first time he’d seen her in a black lace teddy. It had been the summer between their senior year and college, long, lazy days when love seemed their own invention, and the future merely a bright, indefinable light that beckoned to them.
They’d gone down to Biloxi with a group of high-school friends, the sort of outing that marked good-bye to youth and initiation into adulthood. He and the rest of the boys had been deep-sea fishing that day while all the girls had gone shopping. That night, sunburned but still bursting with energy, they’d all gone dancing. Afterward Amanda had come to his room. It hadn’t been the first time they’d loved, but it turned out to be one of the most memorable.
Something about her had been different that night, as if she’d cast off the shy vulnerability of a teenager and become a woman. She’d been provocative, sensuous, and incredibly passionate. With the lights turned down low, she’d pushed him into an easy chair and stood before him. Then she’d stripped. The loud thrumming of his heart was the only music she needed. He’d felt certain she heard it.
First she’d taken the pins from her hair ever so slowly, caressing each flaming strand as it fell to her shoulders. At that moment he could have buried himself in her hair and died happy. He remembered how he’d felt, just looking at her hair. Then she’d slowly unzipped her dress, a bright red taffeta party frock. The sound of the zipper had sent chills through him. When she’d lowered the dress and revealed the black lace teddy underneath, he’d thought he’d die.
He’d started toward her then, but she’d held up her hand, stilling him. Not touching her had been sweet agony, but afterward he was glad he’d waited. She’d stepped out of the dress and stood before him, legs apart, hands on her hips, wearing nothing except the black lace teddy, red high heels so sexy that they should have been declared hazardous to his sanity, and a smile.
It was then that he made love to her, swiftly and thoroughly. Bending her over backward, he’d devoured her mouth. Locked together, he’d guided them to the bed.
It had been one of those unforgettable nights. From that moment on he’d never seen black lace without thinking of her.
Standing in the doorway, watching her bent over the trunk and thinking about that night, he felt his desire growing. Wanting her caused physical pain, but he knew he couldn’t take her, not even to get her out of his system. Deep inside, he knew that their rejoining would be a thunderous affair. And Maxine was out there in the shop. When the time came, he wouldn’t have an audience.