by Sarah Morgan
His frankness surprised her. She’d expected him to be emotionally guarded.
“That explains why you don’t think it’s always a good idea for a couple to stay together simply because they have children.”
“Case-by-case basis.” He watched as Brutus retrieved the stick. “Maybe for some people that would be the right thing to do.”
“Did they divorce eventually?”
“Yes. But not until my sisters had left home.” He turned to look at her. Trapped by that intense gaze, it was hard to find a single professional thought.
“Why did they stay together so long?”
“Because my mother was afraid to leave. And because my father told her that if she left, she’d lose her kids.” He finished his coffee and threw the cup in the trash, his aim perfect.
Molly sat still, shocked. “He was abusive?”
“Not physically, verbally. But that can be as bad. He diminished her and stripped her of her confidence until she was convinced that without him she wouldn’t be able to survive. You want to know why I became a divorce lawyer? That was why. She told me one day that if she left he’d get a fancy lawyer who would make sure she never saw us again. She’d lose us, and her home. She wasn’t willing to take that risk. I told her that when I grew up I was going to be a fancier lawyer than any of the ones he would have hired. I told her I’d make sure she had us, and her home.” He leaned forward to remove a twig that had become tangled in Brutus’s fur. “And that is way too much information to give to someone I just met in the park.”
“I was thinking the same thing about what I just told you.” Molly watched, transfixed, as his fingers moved gently and patiently over the dog’s neck until he’d extracted the offending twig.
He gave Brutus a rub behind his ears and sat back. “Is your mother the reason you don’t date?”
All she could think about were his fingers caressing the dog. She wondered if he was that gentle in everything he did. “I— Date? Oh. Not really. I’m having fun being single.”
He leaned closer. “Have dinner with me and I’ll prove there are some things more fun than being single.”
Disorientated by his voice, it took her a moment to answer. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
Because she had more sense. Because this man was already making her behave in a way that was completely out of character. Since when did she spill all her secrets to a stranger she met in the park? “Maybe I don’t like you enough.”
“That’s not it.” He gave her a slow, sure smile and she decided that smile could probably get him through a locked door without a key.
“Are you always so confident about everything?”
“Not everything, but I’m confident about this. Admit it, we’ve had a connection since the first day our dogs met in the park. It’s the reason you keep coming back and the reason I keep coming back. Our dog-walking relationship has already lasted longer than some marriages.” His gaze was direct and searching and she stared into his eyes trying to formulate thoughts and words.
It was true that they had a connection. It was the reason she was sitting here now. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. And last time had ended in heartbreak.
“The reason you’re interested is because I keep saying no.”
“Not true. You have a great sense of humor and I like talking to you. And then there’s the fact that now you know all my deep, innermost secrets so I have to neutralize you in some way before you do me damage.”
He made her laugh.
“Admit it, you’re competitive.”
“Maybe. A little. But I also find you interesting. And sexy. You have great legs and your butt looks good in running pants. And your dog is cute.”
“You find my dog attractive?”
“I find the way you love your dog attractive. So how about it? Instead of sitting out here and watching the sunrise every morning, how about we share a good bottle of wine and watch the sun set for a change?”
She could imagine him in court, a formidable opponent with an answer to everything. He’d use a lethal cocktail of charm and verbal acuity to get the response he wanted. He’d find the weakness and use it. “I love sunrise.”
He watched the sun bounce across the tops of the trees and spotlight the skyscrapers that framed the park. “I love it, too, but it would be nice to spend time with you without the whole of Manhattan jogging past.”
“I bet you’re the type who hates losing.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never lost. But if I ever do, I’ll let you know how it feels.” The conversation was light, but she was conscious that underneath the banter was an undercurrent of delicious tension.
She was trying to work out how to respond when it started to rain, a light patter that chilled her skin.
Daniel cursed softly and rose to his feet. “If we move fast we can shelter under those trees.”
“Shelter? It’s only a few spots. Don’t be a wimp.”
There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Are you calling me a wimp?”
“Yes, but don’t worry. It’s good to know you have a weakness.” The rain grew heavier and huge drops thundered down, soaking everything they touched.
“You’re right. We should shelter.” She called Valentine and ran, her feet splashing through newly formed puddles, the rain soaking through the thin fabric of her shirt and flattening her hair to her head.
Valentine barked, excited and fired up by the new urgency and Brutus followed, the two dogs side by side as they made for the shelter of the trees.
She dived through the long, pendulous branches of a weeping willow, feeling the leaves brush her face and her arms. She knew Daniel was behind her. She could hear the heavier thud of his running shoes on the ground and awareness chased across her skin, the feeling so intense it was like pressure. He could catch her easily, and when he did—
She stopped under the tree, unsettled by the explicit nature of her own thoughts.
It had been a while since she’d been interested enough to risk getting involved with someone. The last three years had been spent focusing on rebuilding her life, and sex hadn’t been part of that.
She turned and met his gaze.
She told herself it was sprinting that made her chest tight and her breathing rapid, but she knew she was lying to herself. It was him. This man with the wicked eyes and the slow, dangerous smile. This man who made her feel a million things she never wanted to feel, all of which terrified her.
Did he know? If so he was a sadist because he gave her no breathing room, no space in which to gather herself.
Instead he stopped right in front of her, so close she was forced to take a step back or touch him.
She felt the rough bark of the tree press against her back and knew there were no more steps back to take. From here it was stand still or move forward.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m keeping you dry. Protecting you from the rain.” He gave a slow, sexy smile. “Showing you my weakness.”
But this close she saw nothing but strength. There was strength in the arms that caged her, in the dip and swell of muscle, in the width of the powerful shoulders that blocked her view of the world. There was strength in the lines of his cheekbones, and in his jaw, shaded by stubble.
Her gaze was trapped by his and his eyes made her think of long summer days filled with blue skies and endless possibilities.
“I don’t mind the rain.”
His mouth hovered close to hers. “I forgot you were British. We probably have a different relationship with rain.”
“Rain and I are intimately acquainted.”
“I never thought I’d envy the weather.” He lifted his hand and stroked her damp hair back from her face. She felt the tips of his fingers brush across her skin, lingering, and knew this wasn’t about clearing her vision of damp hair and rainwater. It was about exploration. Possession.
It had been so long since she’
d been touched like this and she was supersensitive, her imagination and her senses keenly aware of every touch.
Dear Aggie, there’s this guy I find impossibly sexy, and when I’m with him I forget everything. I know that anything we share will be short-term. I’m worried a relationship will end in pain. What should I do? Yours, Light-headed.
The rain was coming down harder now, but only the occasional drip managed to squeeze its way through the cascading branches of the weeping willow. They were sheltered in their own private glade, protected by the tangled labyrinth of green and gold.
She’d thought there would be plenty of people seeking shelter, but it seemed everyone else had chosen to leave the park. They were alone, or at least it felt that way, trapped by the weather and cocooned by nature. It was as if someone had drawn the curtains around them, concealing them from the world. She was aware of the muted thud of raindrops as they pounded the canopy of the trees, of the rustle of leaves and the whisper of the breeze through the branches. And she was aware of the beat of her heart and the uneven note of his breathing.
She raised her hand and brushed a raindrop from his jaw, feeling the roughness of stubble under her fingers.
Dear Light-headed, not all relationships end in pain. Once in a while it’s worth trusting your instincts and taking a risk.
As he lowered his head, she rose on tiptoe and lifted her mouth to his, meeting him halfway. Or that was what she told herself. The truth was that from the moment his mouth met hers there was no doubt who was in control. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her with slow, leisurely purpose. There was something aggressive about the way he held her prisoner, but something infinitely gentle about the coaxing pressure of his mouth on hers. With each brush of his lips and each stroke of his tongue, he stoked the heat until she was shaking and dizzy with desire. The pleasure was disorientating, a low drag in her belly, a shimmer of electricity across her sensitized skin. Her fingers speared the soft silk of his hair as she tried to pull him closer.
Reason and logic were drowned by the rising tide of arousal. She was unable to even pose a question, which was a good thing because she wouldn’t have been able to answer. All she could do was feel. She didn’t believe in magic, but for a moment she saw stars. The world around them vanished until there was only the erotic touch of his mouth and the soft patter of rain on the leaves.
She melted under the dizzying strokes of his tongue, swaying against him, and felt his hand stroke down her back and linger on the base of her spine, pressing her close. That touch confirmed everything she already knew about his body. That it was hard and strong, conditioned and athletic. The unyielding pressure of his muscles suggested he did more to keep himself fit than chase a dog around the park.
She didn’t know how she got there but somehow she was trapped between the sturdy tree and the power of his frame.
And still he kissed her. He left her nowhere to hide, exploring, demanding, discovering until she was a trembling mass of nerve endings. He showed no signs of stopping and her brain wasn’t functioning well enough to come up with a single reason why she should be the one to stop doing something that felt so good.
His hand moved to her breast, his thumb stroking over the tip. The delicious friction made her shudder and she moaned and pressed closer. She felt his fingers at the hem of her T-shirt and then the warmth of his hand settling on bare skin.
It was like being on fire, the excitement burning over her skin and settling low in her belly.
She had no idea how far they would have gone, but at that moment Valentine barked.
Daniel eased back with obvious reluctance. “Maybe we should take this indoors.”
Indoors?
The word seeped through the clouds of desire fogging her brain and finally settled into her consciousness.
She wrenched herself out of his arms, and winced as she grazed her arm on the bark of the tree.
“Hey, slow down.” Daniel’s voice was rough and sexy. “Good thing you picked a weeping willow, otherwise we would have put on a public display.”
Hearing those words was like being plunged headfirst into a bucket of cold water.
Panic swarmed up her skin. What had she been thinking? She was careful never, ever, to put herself in a position where her professional credibility could be questioned, and yet here she was kissing in the park like a teenager, in view of anyone who happened to be passing.
All it took was a single photograph. A post online. Before you knew it your life was trending, every single private thing about yourself uncovered and laid out for the malicious delectation of an audience thirsty for another public shaming.
She took several deep breaths, reminding herself that even if someone had seen them, no one would have connected her with “Aggie.” She’d created that persona for exactly this reason. For protection. An extra layer of defense, to add to the other layers.
And that was the scariest thing of all. Since she’d arrived in New York, no one had breached a single layer of her defenses. No one.
Until Daniel.
“Come home with me.” He framed her face in his hands and spoke the words against her mouth. “We’ll get out of these wet things and take a shower together. You know it’s going to be good.”
Yes, she knew. Which was why she was backing away. Fire like that inevitably ended up with someone being burned.
How had this gone from fun flirtation in the park to something so real? But she knew the answer to that. The moment he’d started kissing her, she’d forgotten everything. Even now, she was tempted to ignore the sensible voice in her head and go with him.
“No.” She pulled away from him so suddenly he had to plant his hand against the tree to steady himself.
She empathized. From the moment he’d kissed her she’d lost faith in the ability of her knees to support her. If Valentine had been a few inches taller she would have climbed on his back and ridden him home.
She bent and grabbed his collar, clipping on the lead quickly.
“Molly, wait.” Daniel’s voice was thickened; he sounded almost drugged, as if he’d indulged in a serious binge on an illegal substance.
She knew the feeling. Only in her case he was the illegal substance.
She really liked him, and with that extra connection came the risk of heartbreak. She wasn’t going near that again.
Eight
Daniel glanced across the office to check his door was closed, then opened his laptop and typed in Ask a Girl.
Maybe Aggie would have some advice on how to handle a woman who sprinted away from something good. The kiss had blown his mind and he was pretty sure it had blown Molly’s, too. She was sexy, smart and unattached. He’d told her things he hardly ever discussed with anyone, and certainly not someone he barely knew. He still didn’t understand why he’d done that, except that there was something about his connection with Molly that had accelerated the pace of their relationship. And he was sure she felt the same way, which was why he couldn’t think of a single logical reason why she wouldn’t want to take it to the next level.
He scrolled through the site, reading some of the questions. Not that he would ever have admitted it, but her site had a strangely addictive quality.
Daniel only ever saw relationships at the point where they’d broken down. He’d never given much thought to the rocky path that brought people to his office. Was this how it started, he wondered, with a simple question? A simple misunderstanding? One crack that, if left unattended, widened into canyons too big to breach.
He’d never imagined so many men would be prepared to write to a woman asking for advice. That, he supposed, was the power of the internet. You were anonymous. Or at least you thought you were. And Aggie had an opinion on all of it. What to say. What to think. What to feel.
Dear Aggie, my girlfriend leads such a full life I sometimes wonder if she even needs me. How can I persuade her to prioritize me over her book group or her quilting group? Yours, Insignificant.
&nb
sp; Daniel raised his eyebrows. If a guy struggled to be more interesting than a book or a square of fabric, he was in trouble, surely?
Then he thought of Molly with her salsa dancing, spin class and cooking class, and felt a flicker of sympathy.
Maybe it wasn’t as easy as he thought.
Intrigued, he read Aggie’s answer.
Dear Insignificant, instead of asking your girlfriend to choose you over her favorite activities, why not join her? Sharing a hobby can be an intimate and emotionally bonding experience. While it’s always healthy to maintain separate interests, it’s also good to share things. It can deepen the understanding between you and lead to a more fulfilling relationship.
She expected the guy to take up quilting? The woman was deluded.
Daniel stared at the screen, thinking of Molly’s interests. He didn’t really want to take a cooking class and he’d never seen the point of a spin class, so all that was left was salsa dancing. But the only type of salsa he knew anything about was the sort that was served with nachos, and there was no way he was shimmying around on a dance floor in Lycra and sequins, however attractive he found Molly. He’d rather walk a poodle in the park.
Why couldn’t she love baseball or poker? Or even jazz? He’d be happy enough to join her for any of those activities. Art? Theater? He’d be there like a shot. But spin class? Paying money to ride a bike going nowhere seemed like a crazy idea to him.
There had to be a better way.
How low had he sunk that he was considering writing to an advice columnist who probably knew less about relationships than he did?
He’d show up at the park tomorrow, at the usual time, and hope she was there. If she still wouldn’t agree to dinner he’d take it down a notch and persuade her to join him for something less likely to crush his spirit in the first five minutes.
There was a tap on the door and he minimized the screen a few seconds before Marsha walked into the room.
“Your two o’clock has canceled so I moved up Alan Bright.”
