Daring in the Dark

No sooner had the words left her mouth than lightning flashed and thunder boomed overhead. Rain fell in a sudden onslaught. Nothing, it seemed, was subtle or happening in small measure tonight.

“Or not. Okay. That’s it. I’m not planning anything else tonight because everything I plan gets trashed,” she said with a nervous laugh. They were stuck here. She picked up a small votive to lead the way back down the hall. “I’m not a culinary queen, but nails shouldn’t be necessary,” she said.

She didn’t comment when Simon blew out the other candles in the room before he picked up the radio and followed her. She had enough candles in the closet to carry them for a week, but it wasn’t worth arguing the point.

She was more than willing to bury the hatchet between them since they were stuck here together.

She snagged her wineglass on the way into the kitchen. “Good wine is a terrible thing to waste.”

“Ah, something we agree on.” Tawny waited for Simon to exchange the radio for his glass and the wine bottle. Given the minimum square footage of her apartment, they’d have no trouble hearing the radio from the kitchen. He followed her into the other room. Within a few seconds, several candles illuminated her galley kitchen.

“What’s that?” Simon asked. She followed his gaze to the top of the fridge. In the semidarkness, Peaches resembled a blob of prey more than a feline.

“Peaches, my cat. He likes the top of the refrigerator. He’s the one with a bad attitude and selective hearing.”

“Poor fella. You’d have a bad attitude, too, if you were a guy called Peaches.” Simon made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat and surprised Tawny by reaching up to scratch the cat behind the ears. Peaches promptly hissed and swatted.

“He’s not Mister Friendly.”

“Neither am I,” Simon said with a self-deprecating smile as he leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, forget it, I’m not adopting you if you find yourself abandoned,” she said with a teasing smile, despite the flutter in her tummy at the thought of making Simon her own. “You’d probably be as bad-tempered and ungrateful as he is.”

“Duly noted,” he said with another smile that doubled her heart rate. “Why do you keep the wretch?”

“Because it was love at first sight on my part.” She glanced away from him. That almost sounded as if she had declared herself in love with Simon at first sight. A totally ridiculous notion. “He’ll come around sooner or later.”

Simon quirked a sardonic brow in the direction of Peaches. “I believe you’re an eternal optimist.”

“Call me Pollyanna.” She opened the refrigerator door and peered into the black hole, considering their limited food options. “The microwave or the oven won’t work. I’ve got leftover pizza. And I can throw together a fruit salad. How does that sound?”

“Better than nails.”

Tawny laughed, enjoying his quiet teasing and relaxing into his company. She pulled out the food and closed the fridge door. “Are you always so gracious and enthusiastic?”

“Yes, except when I’m in a bad mood.” He sipped his wine, and as if the camaraderie between them was unacceptable, she could almost see him retreating. She wanted him to stay. “It was monumental bad timing that I wasn’t the one delayed and Elliott isn’t here with you instead.”

Elliott. Right. Her fiancé. She twisted her ring with her thumb. Guilt flooded her. She hadn’t spared Elliott a nominal thought since his phone call. She shrugged. “It’s an emergency. We all do the best we can. I’m sure Elliott would rather not be trapped in the gallery with that acrylics guy. And while you might not be thrilled to be here, it’s better than being stuck on the subway.”

She pulled out the chopping board, a knife and a bowl.

“And why would you think I’m not thrilled to be here?” he asked.

She went to work chunking the fresh pineapple. She almost said she wasn’t as dumb as she must look but thought better of it. “Should I believe you’re thrilled to be stuck in this apartment with me?”

“Would you believe me if I told you there was no other place I’d rather be?” Something in the depths of his eyes stole her breath.

She laughed to cover her breathlessness and cored an apple. “No. I think there’s probably a list a mile long of places you’d rather be, but you’re too nice to say so.”

“Quite. I’m such a nice guy.”

“Be honest. Wouldn’t you rather be at your girlfriend’s? Or if the photo shoot had gone a little longer, you’d be with Chloe.” Okay, she admitted it. She was fishing. They’d double dated several times with Simon. Each time it had been a different woman. But after the photo shoot, Simon had always begged off whenever Elliott invited him along.

She added diced apple to the bowl and reached for a banana. His love life intrigued her. Not that it had anything to do with her. But if she was having head-banging sex with him in her dreams, she could at least know about his love life.

“I don’t have a girlfriend and Chloe isn’t my type,” he said, shrugging. A thin, beautiful model wasn’t his type? She looked at him considering the implications. Maybe he was…

“And no, I don’t mean not my type that way. I’m not gay. Chloe’s a nice woman, but she doesn’t do a thing for me.”

Whew! She shouldn’t be so relieved. She sectioned an orange. What kind of woman was his type? Who would appeal to a self-contained man like Simon? And why didn’t he have a girlfriend? In a dark, fiendish way, he was spine-tingling, toe-curling sexy. “So, what kind of woman does something for you?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Sure you have. Everyone has a type they go for,” she said.

“I don’t really have a type.”

He seriously needed to loosen up a bit. She mixed the fruit together. “Sure you do. I bet if you stop and think about it, there’s a certain type of woman that attracts you, that makes your blood run a little hotter.”

“Is this some kind of game, Tawny? Do you want me to say it’s a woman like you?” His voice was low, dangerous in its quiet intensity.

Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted? To know that for all the times she’d writhed, screamed his name in the middle of an orgasm, woken up wet and spent, that he wasn’t totally immune to her? Yes and no. The only game she was playing was with herself, and it was a dangerous one. She looked away from his dark-eyed gaze, glad to busy herself with getting two bowls out of her cabinet. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve made it abundantly clear how you regard me. I’m just surprised you’re not still seeing Lenore. You made a nice couple.” Lenore had been Simon’s date the night Elliott had proposed. The tall, willowy blonde had been a perfect complement to Simon’s urbane dark looks.

She divvied out the portions and they sat at the small wrought-iron table she’d tucked in the corner.

Simon shrugged. “Lenore is nice. That’s why I quit seeing her. I’m in a bit of an unrequited love and it didn’t seem fair to date her when my head and heart were otherwise engaged. Delicious, by the way,” he said, indicating the fruit and pizza. “Thank you.”

“Glad you like it.” His other words slammed into her. A dark jealousy coiled through her at the thought of a woman capturing the distant Simon’s heart. This mystery woman must be a paragon. Beautiful, sophisticated, thin, witty, probably a couple of Ph.D.s under her belt. Unwisely, unwittingly, instinctively Tawny hated her. Hated her for capturing his heart and hated her for tossing it aside.

So of course she said, “I’m sorry. That’s a hard place to be. Do you want to talk about it? About her? Sometimes talking it over with someone, things aren’t as hopeless as they seem.” She couldn’t seem to shut up, hell-bent on atoning for her lust. “Maybe I could help you figure out a way to win her over—you know, another woman’s perspective.”

She bit into the pizza, finding something else to do with her mouth other than babble on. Simon regarded her over the rim of his wineglass, his expression indecipherable. “You’re offering aid with my dismal love life?”

It could prove to be just the cure she needed to get over this…thing for him. She nodded and swallowed. “Sure. Why not?”

He placed his empty glass on the table. “That’s generous, but she’s unavailable.”

Ouch. “She’s married?”

“No. But she’s in a serious relationship.”

That merely irritated her. Was Simon truly in love or was it the unavailability factor? People, especially men, always wanted what they couldn’t have. Put a taboo label on it and they had to have it.

“Until she says I do, she’s not unavailable. You’ve got to decide how important she is to you. If you’re willing to forego other relationships, she must matter a lot. Wake up, Simon, and smell the coffee. What’re you gonna do? Sit around in some weird celibate state—”

“I never mentioned celibacy.” Simon tried to pull a haughty look on her.

Tawny rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. If you won’t date a woman because you don’t want to be unfair, then you’re certainly not sleeping with anyone.” Alarming how much that pleased her. So of course she worked even harder to push him. “You’re gonna moon around in a celibate state for a couple of years or even the rest of your life because she’s in a relationship but not married? How bad do you want her?”