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She heard water running in the bathroom, and suddenly she needed to get away from the wildly rumpled bed, the heedless scattered clothing, the man who would, at any moment, walk naked out of that bathroom door. She made a hasty exit from the bedroom, telling herself that she wasn’t really retreating—she simply needed something to drink.
Rummaging in Stephanie’s refrigerator, she found orange juice, tomato juice, grapefruit juice, canned sodas and designer water. She took out a soda, filled a glass with ice and poured the drink carefully, giving more concentration than necessary to the relatively simple task. She took a sip, feeling the bite of carbonated caffeine, and then she turned toward the doorway.
Blake stood there watching her, wearing nothing but his khaki slacks, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he leaned against the doorway, looking as though he’d been there a while. His golden hair was rumpled around his face, and she couldn’t help remembering how thick and l
uxuriant it had felt when she’d buried her fingers in it.
Since he seemed to be waiting for her to say something, she lifted the glass. “I was thirsty.”
He nodded. “I’m a little thirsty, myself.”
“What would you like?” she asked politely, taking a half step toward the refrigerator.
He shook his head and pushed away from the door. “I’ll get it.”
He pulled a can from the refrigerator, popped the top and tilted it to his lips without bothering with a glass. Watching his throat work, and noting the way the light gleamed on his bare chest, Tara felt her mouth go dry again.
Blake was undoubtedly the most beautiful man she’d ever known. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at him without wanting to touch him.
His eyes met hers, and she wondered if he could read her thoughts. But all he asked was, “Having regrets?”
She shook her head. “No. I wasn’t carried away by impulse, Blake. I knew what I was doing. What I wanted. And I have no regrets. Only—”
“Only what?”
“A lot of unanswered questions.”
He looked away from her. His gesture told her a great deal.
“You aren’t ready to answer them, are you?”
Blake ran a hand through his hair. “If you ask them, I’ll answer.”
He seemed to brace himself, apparently preparing to bare his soul one question at a time.
Tara had no intention of dragging anything out of him. Not his past, not his feelings, not even his last name. Unless he shared himself with her willingly, there was little point in it. “There’s only one question I want to ask now.”
He seemed a bit surprised, but he nodded. “All right.”
“Why did you come to my apartment Friday afternoon?”
“Because I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you,” he answered gruffly. “Because when I found out you were no longer with the law firm, I was afraid you would leave town without giving me a chance to see you. Because, no matter how much I told myself I should, I couldn’t stay away from you.”
Thoroughly shaken by his words, Tara cleared her throat and tried to think of something to say. It was just as well she’d limited herself to one question for now, she thought dazedly. She wasn’t sure she could handle any more answers like that one!
Blake gave a rough laugh and set his soda can on the counter. “Sorry you asked?”
Tara put her glass on the table. If she didn’t know better, she mused, she would think that Blake’s confidence was as precarious as her own in some areas. “I told you,” she said, finding her voice again, “I’m not sorry about anything that has happened between us.”
Blake reached out and snagged a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her toward him for a long, thorough kiss.
“When this is over—when you’re safe—we’ll talk,” he promised, his lips moving against hers.
She pressed her lips to his again, then drew back far enough to ask, “What are we going to do tonight?”
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
