Chapter Twenty
“It’s a beautiful night,” Zane said as they walked home from Sammy’s Steakhouse. Main street was aglow with Christmas lights strung between the lights and in the windows of shops. There were dozens of snowmen in the town square from today’s snowman competition.
“I can’t believe it’s December. Even though there is snow, it feels like fall.” He loved long walks in weather like this. Not too cold, not too hot, but brisk enough to be invigorating. The holiday scenery only added to his joy. Sharing the day, and the lead-up to Christmas with Clara was playing havoc with his emotions. He wanted more but didn’t dare take it, for fear of breaking her heart, or his, when he left.
“Are you nuts?” Her comment interrupted his musing. “It’s not beautiful. It’s minus five Celsius out here. I’m freezing.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
“Here, take my jacket.” He slipped out of his lightweight coat and hung it over her shoulders. “I’ve got this heavy sweater on. I’ll be fine. We’re only a couple blocks from home.”
“I can’t take your coat.” Even as she said the words, she snuggled into his jacket and pulled it tight. “Thank you. I didn’t think it would be this cold. I should have dressed warmer.”
He didn’t see how she could have dressed warmer. She wore heavy snow boots, mittens, a hat and scarf. Her jacket was puffy and looked warmer than the lighter, fancier one she’d worn to the market earlier.
“I should invest in a new jacket. This one is starting to wear out. I’ve had it for years and the feathers are falling out. Maybe it’s time to upgrade to something with that new uber-micro-fancy fiber filling.” She laughed. “I’m much warmer now. Thanks.”
It was too bad she was cold. Soft snowflakes drifted around them, landing on her shoulders and eyelashes. It was the perfect night for a stroll. The snow muted the sounds around them to near stillness, making it seem like they were alone in the world, as it should be. He paused, his step faltering. Luckily, Clara didn’t notice. Just the two of them? Did he want that? What about his career? He pushed the questions aside. No sense wasting a perfect evening with a beautiful woman on perplexing thoughts.
“The snow makes me think of music. Something softly muted but still light and airy.” Her words puffed out in a fine frozen mist.
Zane considered her words. “I can almost hear it. Will you play it for me when we get home? I’ll make hot cocoa and find a light snack while you compose.”
“Really? You want to hear it?” She paused to look at him, snowflakes landing on her cheeks and slowly melting away.
“Absolutely. The composition process fascinates me. My mind doesn’t work that way. Once or twice, I’ve listened to you create music. It’s incredible how it morphs from a simple melody and becomes increasingly complex as you repeat it.” He looked at her and suddenly, unable to resist, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
She tasted of wine and crème brûlée. Beneath it was something heady and delicious, simply Clara. He couldn’t put a finger on her scent. It wasn’t floral, yet it had floral undertones melded with cinnamon, vanilla and maybe ginger. Flowers and cookies! Recognition hit him like a punch to the stomach. After a brief touch of his lips to hers, he backed up and smiled softly. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t really, but knew an apology was needed. A man should never kiss a woman without permission. Guilt stabbed at his guts. He was lucky she didn’t slap him.
“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered, rising on her toes, she pressed her lips to his.
The warmth of her kiss and the tug of her hands on his head pulled him deeper than he’d intended to go. Something about her was so irresistible he couldn’t pull away even if he’d wanted to. He pressed against her, trying to convey his attraction and caring, without coming on too strong and driving her away.
Kissing her was a colossal mistake and he’d do it again and again if she’d let him. She was entirely too alluring. More intoxicating than the finest Scotch. Being with her had him feeling like a sailor succumbing to a siren’s song. He was lost to her countless charms.
He tilted his head left to pass his tongue lightly over her lips. She opened immediately, her tongue meeting his and stealing his breath and his sanity. Distantly he heard the muted sound of an engine and tires on the snow. He ignored it. Nothing was more important than this kiss.
A horn blared.
“Get a room,” someone shouted.
Clara jerked back, her face red in the dim glow of a nearby streetlight. She stared at her feet and brushed a toe through the deepening snow.
“I guess we’d better go.” He clasped her hand in his and led her down the sidewalk, lamenting the loss of her kiss. “I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I’m not sorry,” he apologized again. “I’m disappointed we were so rudely interrupted. I could kiss you all night.”
She made a breathy sound that had him fighting the urge to kiss her again. “I like you, Clara Everett. I like you a lot. Let’s get you home and warmed up.” He didn’t know about her, but he wasn’t cold. Far from it, his temperature was skyrocketing so high he was probably raising the ambient air temperature for blocks.
