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“They serve their purpose.”
His brow arched. “Which is?”
To put a barrier between her and anyone who tried to look too closely. As Jude was currently doing.
She should have grabbed them off her bathroom sink before heading to his place. She just hadn’t been thinking clearly, and that had been way before she’d drunk any wine.
“Something smells wonderful. You sure I can’t help?” she asked, needing to pull herself out of whatever trance he was putting her in.
“Positive.” He came to stand by where she sat, held out his hand. “It’s all done and on the table. Hungry?”
Being careful not to slosh her wine, she slipped her hand into his, not surprised one bit by the warmth, the tingles that zapped her at the skin-to-skin contact, the burning heat that settled deep in her belly.
It was only fitting that the man had the powers of Zeus to shoot lightning bolts through unsuspecting women.
“Starved.”
And not just for food.
Oops. There went the wine again.
CHAPTER FIVE
“YOU MAY HAVE ruined me to hummus and toast forever.” Sarah patted her mouth with a napkin, then leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Shame on you, spoiling my rather dull palate.”
Jude felt rather spoiled himself, having gotten to watch Sarah eat. And loosen up. Now, that he’d enjoyed.
Because once she’d relaxed she’d opened up and talked.
Sarah talking was a pleasure.
She fascinated him. From her political views to her dreading the holidays as much as he was to her fear of taking the tunnels out of the city to her absolute love of New York and the diversity of people, customs, restaurants, and things to do.
He couldn’t quite believe she’d lived in New York her entire life and had never been to a Broadway show. How did anyone manage that? Even prior to adulthood, he’d repeatedly gone during prep school field day trips.
He leaned forward, pinning her with his gaze. “If you could see any one Broadway show, which one would it be?”
“Phantom of the Opera,” she said without hesitation and with a wistful look in her eyes that even her hideous glasses wouldn’t have hidden.
“Obviously, you’ve given this some thought. Why haven’t you gone?”
Glancing away from him to stare out the window at the skyline, she shrugged. “I made plans to go once. He failed to show and I’ve just never made plans to go again.”
He?
“What?” He exaggerated the word, a bit stunned at her reason. “Are you kidding me? Some guy stood you up?”
Meeting his gaze for a brief moment, she shook her head, then stared down into her glass, twirling the small amount of sparkling wine remaining. “I... It’s okay, really.”
“You were all dressed up and waiting on the guy to take you on a date and he never showed?” Maybe his question had been crass, but the possibility that some clown had blown her off just seemed unfathomable. And made him angry for her. He should get the guy’s address and give him a lesson on how to treat a lady. Because, despite Sarah’s denial, her voice conveyed that she’d been hurt.
As did how her eyes were downcast and her face pale.
“You were, weren’t you?”
“I was what?” Her gaze lifted to his.
The glistening in her eyes almost undid him. She was fighting tears. His insides clenched as did his fingers.
