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Only she hadn’t quite figured out how she was going to convince her body that she was no longer allowed to ignite from just looking at him. It had been bad enough prior to the having made love.
Now that she had experienced the wealth of his knowledge, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to deny how her body danced to the music of his touch. She didn’t fool herself otherwise, that somehow she was different from every other woman Vale had cast his spell over.
His gaze went out to the ocean.
“Most of my family is still here,” he mused, taking a sip of his juice. “Now that the wedding is over, they’ll be anxious to start plotting their next big event.” His face wrinkled with displeasure. “I’d rather not be around for that.”
His meaning dawned on her. “You think they’ll be plotting about us?”
He finished off his glass of juice. “You caught Sharon’s bouquet. Of course they’ll be plotting. To no avail, but they’ll be plotting.”
To no avail. There it was. A reminder that they weren’t a couple and nothing had really changed between them. He was her boss. She was his employee. When they returned to the office, they’d pretend they hadn’t kissed every inch of each other’s bodies. At least, she’d try.
Vale no doubt had enough experience with weekend-afters that going back to the norm would be no problem.
He leaned across the table, brushed his finger at the corner of her mouth. Ack! Had she had a crumb on her face? He just smiled. “But if you’re not in a rush to return to the city, we could drive to the lighthouse.”
His unexpected offer caught her off guard, had her gaze shooting to his. “The lighthouse?”
Faith had barely set foot outside Manhattan and had never had the time or money for tourist stops. “I’ve never seen a lighthouse in real life.”
“Never?” His brow rose. “That settles our plans for the day, then. We’ll drive to the state park where the Cape May lighthouse is located, and go up.”
Delight filled her. “We can go up it?”
“All the way to the top,” he said in a teasing tone. “A hundred and ninety-nine steps.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “A hundred and ninety-nine steps? You know that how?”
“I’m a brain surgeon. I know everything,” he teased.
With an eye roll, she smiled. “Of course you do.”
He just grinned. “When I was a little boy I climbed to the top of those steps and had the T-shirt to prove it.”
“I bet you were a cute little boy.”
He waggled his brows. “I’m a cute big boy, too.”
“That you are,” she agreed, loving that he was smiling at her, whatever had been weighing on his mind apparently pushed aside. For the time being, at any rate. “That you are.”
Virginia Wakefield hugged them both goodbye, promising to call for lunch the next time she was in Manhattan. Faith just hugged the woman back, accepting a kiss to her cheek, wondering why she wanted to burst into tears at the kindness Vale’s family had extended toward her. She followed him to the car where he stowed her suitcase.
Lost in thoughts of the weekend’s events, she truly hadn’t been prepared for her first sighting of the lighthouse above the tall grass blowing back and forth along the roadside.
“Wow.” She strained her neck, trying to keep the red top in her line of vision.
“We’re almost there,” he promised, turning the car down a winding, tree-lined road.
“We can really go to the top?” she asked again, not quite believing that she was looking at a real-life lighthouse. “Is that something anyone can do or just a Wakefield?”
“You think I get special privileges?”
“I know you do.”
He chuckled. “For a few bucks anyone can go to the top, but it is a good hike up the stairs. You up to it?” He shot her a quick glance, his gaze dancing over her with obvious intent. “After last night you might be too sore to climb stairs.” His grin was lazy, wicked, full of hot, steamy seduction. “I seem to recall you swearing you weren’t going to get out of bed today.”
Yeah, she had sworn that. She’d slept very little, instead reveling in the fact she lay cradled in Vale’s arms, her cheek against his strong chest, listening to his heartbeat.
