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couldn't simply apologize. His negligence had been too great.
After he'd paid the tab and left Alexander the Greek's, he'd walked. He had
to walk; she'd taken the van. First, he was annoyed. Why couldn't she be
more understanding? Hadn't he asked her to be patient?
Then heavy-duty guilt set in. How patient did he expect her to be? Sure, his
phone call was vital to his business, but their time together was important,
too. What if he'd lost her forever?
He'd been afraid to telephone, sure that she'd hang up.
"I had the craziest dream," she said.
He inched nearer to her on the sofa and murmured, "Don't worry, Dorothy.
You're back in Kansas now."
"What?"
"The Wizard of Oz. There's no place like home."
"This was more of an Errol Flynn epic. Pirate ships and swashbuckling.
David, am I being too hard on you? Making too many demands?"
"No," he quickly replied, taking the opportunity to scoot closer to her on the
sofa. "When a guy takes you out to dinner, it's not unreasonable to expect
him to stay for the meal."
"Good. I always thought my mother was too demanding with my father. If
he wasn't fixing up the house, she had him running to a picnic or potluck or
church social. The poor man never had a life of his own. Of course, she
didn't, either."
"Didn't what?"
"Have an identity beyond wife and mother. When 1 think about it, nobody in
my family was expected to have their own life. We were cogs in the family
machine, a preparation for becoming good little cogs in society."
She stretched and yawned. "Please disregard the previous statement. You
know I don't make any sense until I've been awake for a while."
"Made sense to me." He moved a little closer on the sofa. "Tell me more.
You don't often talk about your family."
"There isn't much to say. We were average. Middle America. Small town.
Average."
"How did you get into art?" He was right beside her. "That's not usually a
small-town profession."
"Weren't you sitting way over there?" she asked. "How did you get way over
here?"
"I crept."
"Well, you can creep your way right back. We've got to settle this
scheduling problem we seem to have, and I can't when you're breathing
down my neck."
"Like this?" He rested his hand on her opposite shoulder, turning her toward
him, and breathed soft kisses along the slender column of her throat.
A tiny thrill slipped through her before she firmly pushed him away. "Don't
try to get out of this."
"I'm not trying to get out of anything," he said. "I'm trying to get into "
"David, I'm serious. We have to set priorities."
"You bet." He unfastened the sash on her robe and slid his hand inside. He
cupped her breast. "This is number one."
"For pity's sake, stop it." Drawing upon every ounce of her willpower, she
pushed his hand away.
"I meant it, Jennifer. You are number one. You're my life. Making a
documentary is my livelihood."
"I don't know. It just seems there are a lot of times when Wasp Man comes
first."
"Not in my heart." He sat up straight on the sofa. His attitude was direct and
sincere as he clasped both her hands in his. "There might also be times when
your business comes first. Like the a fair that kept you from coming to
Malibu Beach with me when I first left."
"That's true." She gazed into his gentle gray eyes. "What are we going to do
about it?"
"Falling in love doesn't mean we have to stop living. We'll have to deal with
each situation as it comes up. I was wrong tonight. My behavior was
unforgivable, but I'm asking you to forgive me."
If she stared any longer into his eyes, Jennifer was in danger of hypnotizing
herself, losing herself in the reflected depths of his gray irises. "I was so
angry," she said. "And so hurt. I feel like you're taking me for granted, and
we don't even have a committed relationship."
"We don't?"
"We've never spoken about it."
"Right now it's impossible to make definite plans. It's too early."
"Or too late. Or too long. Or too short." She broke eye contact with him.
"When is the right time, David?"
"What difference does it make? Someday and somewhere. Do we have to
have a specific time and place?"
"I need something definite. I mean, what are we? Betrothed lovers? Going
steady? Friends? A casual affair?"
"Does it matter? You know that I love you."
She was stunned. She tried to recall if he'd ever told her before, and she drew
a blank. Either her brain had ceased functioning, or this was a very
important moment. She hadn't been waiting to hear those three little words.
But now that they had been spoken, hearing them made all the difference in
the world. "You love me?"
He nodded. "I love you. And for the life of me, I cannot define that feeling
for you. I only know that it exists."
"I think I know what you mean," she said, suddenly shy. "Because I love
you, too."
These mutual declarations seemed sweet and innocent to Jennifer. Like an
old-fashioned courtship or the tender stirrings or first love.
"My dream told me to give you another chance," she said.
He leaned closer to her and whispered, "Let's hear it for the dream."
His kiss was exploratory, gentle. He loved her. His tongue slipped through
her lips, adoring the soft, warm flesh inside her mouth. He breathed in the
sleepy scent of her. Lovely. His hands followed the smooth contours of her
torso. Lovable.
Instinctual need swept through him, and he could no longer restrain his
passion. Fiercely he kissed her, needing to be close to her, so close that they
shared the same breath, the same heartbeat.
His powerful desire met and communed with a spark that flickered within
her. She knew that before the night was through, that flame would become
an all-consuming conflagration, but she wanted to prolong the pleasure.
"David, I dreamed you were a pirate."
He pulled away from her, looking surprised. "What?"
"You know, a pirate king." She reclined against the arm of the sofa, her
arms draped gracefully above her head, and challenged him. "Ravish me."
His closed-mouth smile did not show his perfect teeth, but his dimples
deepened. "I think I'm going to like this dream."
"Take off your jacket," she said. "And unfasten the buttons on your shirt."
His white shirt was not cut in the flowing fullness she'd seen in her dream,
but he made a dashing figure with his shirt unbuttoned in a deep V. The
warm flesh of his chest and the wide swath of curling black hair contrasted
with the crisp white cotton.
"Avast," he said as he hoisted her off the sofa and carried her to the
bedroom, piratically nuzzling the softness of her unbound breasts. He
swaggered the last few steps and dropped her on the bed in a sitting posture.
"And now, me fine lady, the true ravishment may begin."
With teasingly rough gestures he whipped off her flannel robe and reached
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