Ann lifted her eyes and their gazes collided in the mirror. She felt heat touch her cheeks as she wondered how long he’d been watching her watching him.
The barest knowing smile touched his lips, telling her he’d seen enough and he’d enjoyed every minute of it.
Her blush deepened as she realized his answering appraisal was just as thorough as hers had been. His smoldering scrutiny started her heart pounding with an almost painful awareness. She took a long breath and let it out, putting on a determinedly casual face as she started toward him, her heels echoing hollowly on the wooden planks of the floor.
Drew turned from the bar and stood as he watched her approach.
“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized with a stiff, little smile.
“No problem. It was well worth the wait,” he said appreciatively as his gaze flicked over her once more.
He bent suddenly, letting his lips brush across her cheek, and Ann’s synthetic poise faded. He smelled of soap and some undeniably masculine cologne. She felt her heart go into double time as she slid onto the bar stool next to him and crossed her black-stockinged legs, an action that did not go unnoticed or, judging by the subtle gleam in the depths of those blue eyes, unappreciated by Drew. She saw his gaze slide up and down her legs before he once again met her eyes.
“Nice dress.”
“Thank you,” she said primly, trying to mask the unfamiliar warmth stealing over her. Their sexual attraction was almost a tangible thing, an electrical current that sizzled and crackled between them. She turned her own gaze toward the bartender and gave him her drink order. The glass of white wine was promptly set before her, and Ann took a nervous sip, ever aware of Drew’s steady inspection.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” she finally blurted in annoyance. “You’re making me nervous.”
He laughed softly, forcing her gaze to mingle with his. “I guess I just can’t get over the changes in you—the way you look, the way you dress...and act.” He smiled ironically, staring pointedly at the wineglass in her hand. “Beer last night, wine tonight. I can’t believe this is the same woman who used to lecture me on the evils of alcohol.”
Ann grimaced, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “Don’t remind me. I suppose I did tend to be a bit self-righteous in those days. But I hope I’ve matured a little since then. Not that I think drinking is a sign of maturity,” she added dryly.
Drew smiled. “And I’ve learned that moderation, in a lot of things, can be a virtue. I guess we’ve both changed. But you’re just as beautiful as ever, and you still have the sexiest legs in Texas.”
His voice had taken on a sort of lazy, intimate drawl that sent a warning shiver scurrying down her spine. Ann laughed self-consciously, knowing full well that she certainly did not have the sexiest legs in Texas. But she was flattered by the outrageous compliment anyway, and not a little flustered. “Well, that certainly covers a lot of territory,” she tried to reply lightly.
Drew’s blue eyes sparkled wickedly. “Which is more than I can say for that dress.”
“Drew!” she admonished in a husky voice she barely recognized as her own. How had this happened? she wondered suddenly. How had she come to be sitting here, casually flirting with a man who had once destroyed her life? She was actually enjoying herself, enjoying the anticipation of the evening as though it might—could—lead to something.
Their eyes met for a moment and held, and Ann knew instinctively that the same thought had occurred to Drew. And then his name was called, and the moment swirled away, leaving Ann with an odd feeling of loss as she rose and followed the hostess to their table set in a cozy window alcove overlooking the river.
A candle flashed and flickered in its fat jar as she and Drew were seated and handed menus. Ann studied the selections for far longer than was necessary, but for some reason, she found herself unable to meet Drew’s gaze, reluctant to face what had just passed between them.
“Have you had any more trouble with trespassers?” Drew asked, sipping his drink after they’d placed their dinner orders and the waitress had disappeared.
“No, not since the day you were there. Whoever it was probably realized how close he’d come to hitting someone and got scared. At least, I hope so.”
“Did you talk to Sheriff Hayden?” Drew persisted softly.
“I didn’t really see the point,” Ann said with a careless shrug. “There was nothing he could do, and besides, I... forgot.”
Because Drew had been on her mind the rest of the day, Ann remembered, feeling herself blush slightly. “I’ll mention it to him the next time I see him,” she said dismissively, clasping her hands in her lap. The picture of the burning angel came instantly to her mind, but Ann didn’t want to tell Drew about that. Talking about it seemed to attach more significance than was warranted, and the incident had already begun to fade from her mind. Besides, nothing else had happened. Better just to forget about it all together, she decided.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested quickly.
“All right. So tell me what you’ve been doing for the last ten years.”
Ann looked up in surprise. How strange that he should ask that, she thought, as though this was the first time they had seen each other in years. And maybe it was. Maybe up until this point, they hadn’t really seen each other at all.
She studied his shadowed features in the dancing candlelight. She could see the mirrored flicker of the flame in the blue depths of his eyes—or was that another kind of fire?
She shivered slightly, letting her gaze drop as she answered automatically. “Years and years of school. Teaching. Writing. Not much to tell actually.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. Tell me about your work,” he pressed gently. “Do you enjoy teaching?”
She rested her elbows on the table and let her hands cup her chin. “Yes, I do. I love history, I love books, and I like sharing that love with my students. Academia is a whole different world, you know. You can lose yourself in it. I guess that’s what I wanted to do in a way.”
“Did I make you want to hide?”
She felt his eyes on her, compelling, intense, drawing her own gaze. She lifted one slender shoulder. “It wasn’t just you. I had a hard time facing a lot of things back then.” She smiled wistfully. “Anyway, after so many years in school, the campus had become my home. It seemed perfectly natural to stay.”
There was a subtle pause as Drew continued to regard her in the soft, wavering light. “Is that where you met him?”
There was no mistaking who he meant, and Ann didn’t try to pretend otherwise. “Yes. We had a math class together my first semester at U.C.L.A. I needed help, and he volunteered.”
“I’ll bet he did.”
At his tone, Ann’s brows drew together in a frown. “That was a long time ago.”
“It was only a moment ago for me.”
The simplicity of his words stunned her, shattered what little pretense might have remained between them. The deep pain in his eyes caused her own to moisten, her throat to tighten, and she was reminded anew just what the last ten years had cost them both. She turned her gaze toward the silent, timeless glide of the river as she felt his hand close over hers on the table.
“Have you been happy all this time?”
Had she been happy? She had a home, a successful fulfilling career, lots of friends. She had done very well for herself, had made a good life, and she had done it without Drew. But had she been happy?
Her sigh came from deep within her soul as she looked into those dark, searching eyes. “I don’t find myself thinking about happiness too much anymore. Do you?”
“No, I guess I don’t.” For the longest time he stared at her, the blue of his eyes intense. “But I’m happy tonight, being here with you,” he added softly, gripping her hand tightly for a moment before releasing it.
His words touched her in a way she could not name. For just a whisper of a moment, they had shared a glimpse into each other�
��s souls and seen the loneliness there, the vulnerability. And even when the curtain had once again fallen, Ann had the strangest feeling that she had just found her way home after having been lost for a long time.
Then the realization hit her that she had missed him, missed his quick understanding and his deep friendship, just as surely as she had missed his love.
The waitress brought their dinners and they concentrated on eating, the slight attempts at conversation were kept light and impersonal. But after the plates had been taken away, Ann couldn’t even remember what she had eaten. Her mind was too distracted, too drawn to the magnetic, virile man across from her.
“Dessert?” he inquired in a teasing, almost affectionate tone. “As I recall, you used to have an insatiable sweet tooth.”
Ann shook her head. “Not anymore. Like you, I’ve learned the virtue of moderation.”
One brow lifted ruefully. “Yet another change. I wonder if there are others,” he said softly, letting his gaze wander carelessly over her face, then dropping and lingering on the bare skin at her shoulders. Suddenly the teasing light in his eyes was replaced by a dark, raw passion that burned into her skin as thoroughly as if he had touched her with an ember.
“We...haven’t even discussed the Riverside project,” Ann stammered, unsettled by the intensity of his regard. “Wasn’t that the purpose of this dinner?”
“You mean it’s time for me to start convincing you?” he asked in a low, husky voice that she had no trouble at all deciphering.
Her green eyes were wide and guileless as she stared back at him. “Well...yes...I guess so.”
He rested his forearms on the table and leaned toward her. “All right, how’s this? You know what I’d like to do right now? I’d like to go down to the river, strip off all our clothes and go swimming like we used to on hot nights. I remember one night in particular....” He let his voice trail off, then added softly, “You’re remembering it, too, aren’t you?”
How could she help it? That memory was always with her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the cool water lapping against her skin, a fine counterpoint to the warmth of Drew’s body when he had held her close.
She had always imagined that when they finally made love, it would be there, in their special place where they had shared their dreams. It had almost happened there one night, when they’d both lost control, when Drew’s kisses had taken her beyond the point of thinking, when his caresses had had her clinging to him instead of pushing him away. Every facet of that night had been solidly imbedded in her memory—the feel of his lips on her breasts, the touch of his hands as he sought her most sensitive places....
Ann shivered, feeling a sudden thrill at the base of her spine. The image of that night had teased and tormented her for so many years. She’d often wondered, especially during the bad times, if she hadn’t stopped them that night, how their lives might have been changed. If they had made love then, perhaps Drew wouldn’t have turned to Aiden.
“I’ve dreamed about that night,” he continued, so accurately tracking her own thoughts. “I remember every single detail, how cool the water felt gliding against our skin, how smooth and hot your body felt beneath my hands. I remember our whispers in the darkness and how beautiful you looked with only the moonlight covering you.”
Ann closed her eyes, his voice washing over her like a heated wave. In the midst of a noisy crowd, without so much as a single touch, he was slowly, thoroughly, seducing her. The voices in the background faded; their surroundings vanished. They were back on the bank of that moonlit river, alone, two lost souls needing each other.
Ann opened her eyes and let her gaze link with his once more. His eyes were deep and dark, inviting her to explore the secret growing between them.
“It should have happened that night, Angel,” he murmured, his voice low and liquid with persuasion. “It could happen tonight. I want to make love to you, and I think you want it, too.”
Desire, hot and glowing and ready to erupt flowed between them. But what then? Ann wondered. What else was there between them anymore? Love? After ten years? She doubted it. What if they found out after all the elapsed time that there was nothing between them but a lot of wasted years. She had lived with this longing for so long she wasn’t sure how she’d feel if it were no longer there. Relief? Strangely enough, she didn’t think so.
His gaze, deep and searching, clung to hers, as if trying to recapture the moment, the memory, the intimate mood they had shared. But it was too late. Ann deliberately sealed off her emotions, and in so doing, found she could not quite meet his eyes anymore.
They both rose and Ann led the way out of the restaurant and across the parking lot to her car. The pale drift of mist from the river softened the night. A stray current of air rustled through the leaves of the water oaks and the air smelled heavy with flowers and the scent of the coming rain. Ann leaned against her car door as Drew propped one arm on the roof and stood staring down at her.
“What happened in there?” he inquired mildly.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You used to be completely honest with yourself and with me. Has that changed, as well?” he asked with a faint note of censure.
At his accusation, Ann felt a flicker of anger that died almost instantly. He was right, after all. She could evade, pretend, even lie as much as she wanted to, but eventually she would have to face the truth. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to.
She pushed her hair back over her shoulder with an impatient hand. “I think we should take things slowly, Drew. We don’t even know each other anymore.”
“We can get to know each other again. In fact, I’d like that very much,” he added with a devastating smile. “I find myself completely intrigued by this new woman, and I’m dying to know if there’s anything remaining of the old one.”
Without even being aware of it, he’d touched on part of the problem. She folded her arms defensively over her breasts. “Would you be disappointed if there were?”
“Absolutely not. As fascinating as this new woman is, I still remember the old one being irresistible in her own right.” He paused for a moment, then added in a low, completely determined voice, “I want to spend time with you, Ann.”
Ann gazed into the swirling mist at her feet as if searching for answers there instead of in her heart. “So much is happening,” she said at last. “Not just to us, but around us. All the animosity in town, the council vote...” She let her voice trail off as she shrugged helplessly.
“Is that all it is?” Warm, purposeful hands smoothed over her shoulders and down her arms, pulling her into his embrace. “Tell me the truth,” he demanded, his deep voice whispering through her soul.
Ann felt the sigh that gathered in her lungs as she rested her head against the hard wall of his chest. Beneath her ear, his heart beat a strong, reassuring cadence. “Wanting you frightens me,” she admitted bleakly. “You make me too aware of feelings I’ve tried for a long time to deny.”
There was a long pause, then, “Are you afraid I’ll hurt you again?”
She leaned back in his arms and gazed up at him, her defenses down, her heart revealed in her eyes. “That’s part of it. I know it sounds strange, but in a way, I think I’m just as frightened that you won’t. Or that you can’t. It scares me to think that after all we’ve been through, there might be nothing left, that it might all turn out to be one huge disappointment.”
He smiled down at her. “You mean the game can’t possibly live up to the buildup?”
She was amazed again by his intuition. She smiled, too. “Something like that.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if we found that out rather than go on wondering?” He pulled her back into his arms, letting his fingers play through the thick strands of her hair. When he spoke again, his voice had deepened, become more sensual, sending a wave of heat rippling through Ann’s body. “I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. But I can’t make you any promises on
how either of us will or won’t feel afterward.”
She pulled back in protest, but he stilled her movement by tightening his arms around her. “We’re being honest here and that’s just the way it is. That’s the way life is. We both know that. But I can promise you one thing—” he paused, his lips curving in a secret, seductive smile as he stared down at her “—I’ll do everything in my power not to disappoint you.”
She felt his hands glide over her rib cage and brush against the sides of her breasts as he bent his head, his breath tingling sensuously along her skin.
“Ann.” His voice was a husky murmur in her ear.
Silence. Ann’s nerves screamed with alertness as her heart began to thud in slow, painful strokes. Instinctively she turned her head just enough to meet his waiting lips, surrendering fully to their pressure. A shudder passed from his body to hers as the passion pulsed between them, stripping them both of caution. Their tongues met and mingled and the kiss intensified with a hot, hungry insistence. His heartbeat pounded against her breast as her hands slid beneath his jacket and around him, savoring the feel of his hard-muscled flesh beneath the soft texture of his shirt.
With a low, masculine groan, Drew tore his mouth from hers, pulled her even more tightly into his embrace. “The magic is still there, Angel,” he whispered reverently. “How could we be disappointed?”
Ann let her head fall back in a silent, sensuous response to his words, her lips parted and waiting.
Angels Don't Cry Page 11
