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“I don’t know…” she began but she stopped when he held up his hand.
“Give me one good reason why you can’t come,” he said, a look of challenge in his eyes. “You don’t have Jessie to worry about. You’re almost done with my project and you have the whole weekend ahead of you.”
Well, wasn’t he sure of himself? She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And what if I already have a date?”
That one knocked him off balance. He blinked then a slight frown creased his brow. “Oh, sorry. I hadn’t thought of that.”
He looked so worried that Meg had to put him out of his misery. “All right, I admit it. I don’t have a date. And I don’t have much of an excuse not to go.”
“So you’ll go with me?” He had an eager look that made him look a whole lot younger.
“Yes,” she said with a note of finality, “I will go with you.” Best to say yes before she changed her mind. If she didn’t go she would spend the rest of her days regretting it. And you only live once, right? That settled, she smiled at him. “What time should I be ready?”
“I’ll pick you up at four-thirty,” he said. “I like to give myself an extra hour just in case of heavy traffic.”
“I’ll be ready.” And, just like that, she had another date with Drake Duncan.
And just to be sure she wasn’t dreaming, when she got to her car thirty-five minutes later she pulled out the brochure Drake had given her. The Leaping Lions in Wisconsin. It hadn’t been a dream at all.
She could hardly wait for Saturday afternoon.
******
Drake had never seen Meg look more beautiful than she did when he picked her up on Saturday afternoon. As if to fit in with the exotic atmosphere of the show she’d rolled her chestnut hair into a French roll and to the side of the thick plait of hair she’d placed a gold clip with a crimson hibiscus of silk. Her hairpiece was a fitting complement to the flowery pattern of the form-fitting dress that hugged her curves and swirled in a soft, colourful cloud around her ankles. A short gold jacket and gold sandals completed her elegant attire and Drake could not have been more proud to have her by his side.
They got to the Continental Hotel, the venue for the show, with a good forty minutes to spare and used the time to admire the South African art on display in the lobby. They were browsing when Drake was recognized by the show promoter and invited backstage to meet the performers. Meg had seemed perturbed by the attention but eventually she calmed and even exchanged a few words with some of the dancers. Before they left, the promoter made them promise to drop by the after-show party.
As they headed for their reserved seats Meg raised an eyebrow. “A party, huh? I hope you can dance.”
Drake gave her a rueful grin. “Not very well, I’m afraid. But maybe I’ll pick up a few moves from tonight’s show.”
And what a show it was. After a spectacular performance with dancers dressed in elaborate costumes in vibrant colors and dances which seemed more like acrobatic feats, Drake and Meg left the hotel’s grand ballroom in a daze.
“So, are you glad you came?” Drake asked, although he could already guess what her answer would be.
“Am I ever!”
He stared down at her face, wide-eyed and radiant, and he knew he had done the right thing in asking her out for the show. She looked like she hadn’t had this sort of entertainment in a long while. He opened his mouth to tell her how beautiful she looked when there was a shout and he turned to see Mr. Promoter heading toward them. Crap. He’d been hoping to avoid the man.
But when their garrulous host reminded them of the party Meg looked so eager that he didn’t have the heart to say they were leaving. Another thirty or forty minutes wouldn’t kill them, he guessed.
The anticipated thirty or forty minutes turned into almost two hours. The South African dancers and their managers were just as entertaining off stage as on. They insisted on teaching their guests some of their dance moves and then, before Meg and Drake knew what was happening, they found themselves in the middle of a Congo line. By the time they were able to escape it was almost midnight.
As they walked back to the hotel lobby Drake took her hand. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late. You must be exhausted.”
“Me?” Her eyebrow shot up. “It’s you I’m worried about. How are you going to manage, making that long drive back to Chicago? We won't get in till two in the morning.”
“Don’t worry. I’m wide awake. I can make it.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know...”
“Hey,” he said gently, “we can stay here if you like.” At her doubtful look he said, “I think my credit is good at this place.”
That made her smile. “I should think so.”
“So come on,” he said, "let’s get ourselves booked in. We can head back early tomorrow morning.”
That night, just a few strokes before midnight, Drake walked Meg to the door of her hotel room. When she turned her face up to his he could see the shadows of sleep clouding her eyes. “Good night, Meg,” he said softly and then, giving in to the urge, he pulled her into his arms.
She did not resist. She melted against him, her soft breasts pressing against his chest, and he yielded to the temptation of those lips that had been tormenting him all night. He bent his head and took possession of her mouth, groaning as she opened to him. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to his chest, then he kissed her until she clung to him as if she had no more strength left.
Finally, as much as he wanted more, he let his arms slide down and away and then he stepped back. Her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, she was breathing heavily, gazing up at him from heavy-lidded eyes as she leaned back against the door. Was there any sight as sexy as a woman who’d just been thoroughly kissed? God knew, he wanted her more tonight than he ever had before. But no, he had to stay cool. He could not afford to rush and spoil everything.
“Goodnight, Meg,” he whispered again, his voice hoarse this time.
“Goodnight, Drake,” she whispered back and then, with an air of resignation, she turned and pushed her key card into the door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said softly then turned the handle and went into her room, closing the door behind her.
Drake stared at the solid wooden panel of the door and cursed this barrier that stood between him and the woman he desired. He wanted to take her in his arms and make sweet love to her but he could not. Slowly, he turned and walked to the elevator then took it to the penthouse floor of the hotel where a suite had been prepared for him. This was where he wanted her, her body writhing under his in an ultra-soft king-sized bed into which their bodies would melt. But it was not to be. Not tonight, anyway. He would have to do his best to take his mind off Meg.
Somehow, he had to cool down. Drake stripped and dropped his clothes on the bed then walked naked to the bathroom. He turned the water on and stood under the stream as it cleansed his body and cleared his mind, making him alert again.
He threw on the luxurious robe the hotel had provided and walked back to the living room where he flung himself onto the sofa. From where he sat he had the perfect view of the suite’s telephone. He stared at it. God, he wanted to call her. Even if nothing else came of it he needed to hear her voice.
Just as he was reaching for the phone it began to ring.
******
With palms gone damp with her nervousness, Meg clutched the phone receiver and held it close to her ear. Had he already gone to bed? Would he think she was crazy to be calling him at this hour of the night? And what if he did answer the phone? Then what?
She bit her lip. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. All she knew was that she didn’t want the night to end. Even if all they did was talk, she just had to hear his voice. After she’d gone inside her hotel room, Meg had done the usual ‘get-ready-for-bed’ things – showered, brushed her teeth, brushed her hair till it fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Then, dressed in the hotel's terry robe, she’d climbed into bed to wait for sleep to claim her. No such luck. She’d tossed and rolled in the bed for almost half an hour before finally giving up. There was no way she was going to sleep tonight, not without talking to Drake one more time.
Truth be told, talk wasn’t the only thing she wanted. In fact, it was sort of low on her priority list right now. There were so many other things, things that made her body shiver just thinking about them.
But talking was a good way to start so, after minutes of hand wringing and deep breathing, she’d gathered her courage about her, picked up the phone and dialled.
Drake picked up on the first ring. “Hello.”
His voice was deep and mellow, not like he’d been sleeping at all. Had he lain there, tossing and tortured as she had?
“Hi, Drake,” she said, her voice soft and hesitant. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
