Desire: Love and Passion (6 page)

             
"It
’
s only visible because you give it power," she said in a soft voice.

             
"It
’
s visible because it is there." He caught her hand and removed it. "You are perfect, beautiful
,
and flawless so you don't understand."

             
"Not all scars are as visible as yours. You are a handsome man with a scar and the story of a lifetime. When your chapter in history closes, it will be anything but boring. If you think about it from that perspective, then all is well."

“How about this perspective? I think you are extremely beautiful and this evening is the most fun I have had with a dinner date in a long time.”

“I
’
m flattered.
I’
m having a good time
,
as well.”

“Excellent,” he said. “So a third date is not out of the question.”

“Third?”
s
he asked.

“Well, breakfast and now this. Besides, if I say this is our second date, then maybe I can get away with doing this.”

He leaned towards her, hesitant for only a second. His mouth touched hers gently. He lightly kissed the sides of her mouth. His hands were on the sides of her face. His thumbs passed slowly over the smooth skin of her cheek, across her face, hands moving gently and he slowly fanned out his gentle caress to her ears. He brushed away loose strands of her hair
and as he did so, he heard a soft sigh escape her lips
.

James wanted to pull her across his lap and explore every inch of her. He held himself in check
for now
, unsure how she might react. His tongue moved lightly across her lips. She sighed
again
and he felt her hot breath against his lips. He gently captured her upper lip between his
and s
he moved closer to him.

James expected her to close her eyes. In his experience women did not take kindly to his scar this close. She didn
’
t close her eyes
, though. This
excited and encouraged him. He turned hi
s attention to her bottom lip.
It was then
that
she put her hands on his shoulders. He felt them slide across his back.

"Don't," he said simply as he clamped his hands over hers and removed them.

She looked at him as if he had done the unthinkable. Her lips were slightly parted and she looked flushed and embarrassed. She stood up quickly, pulling her hands from his.

"I have to go," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said.

             
"No need to apologize
. If you will find your driver,
I'll get my coat."

             
"Willow -."

             
"Dinner was good."

"Please, let me..."

"James, please. Let's just call it a night."

             
James could not look at her. He felt like an idiot. He got up and went to the telephone just inside the kitchen. A few minutes late
r there was a knock on the door; t
he driver had arrived. They didn
’
t talk all through the wait for the driver. He busied himself clearing the wine glasses and the dessert plates while she rummaged through her purse for whatever she might have misplaced.

             
He stood awkwardly as Giles waited at the front door.

             
"Thanks for dinner," she said.

             
"I, I...” He hesitated.
What could he say? He wanted to kiss her. She had kissed him back.  And that moment had gone from sweet to embarrassing and awkward
in a heartbeat
.
He knew i
t was his fault. “Thank you for coming."

"Good night."

Chapter 4

Willow glanced at the number on caller id. It was him. She looked away remembering the last evening. She was certain if he allowed it, she would not have spent the night alone. Heat rose to her face at her embarrassment. What did he think of her?

             
The liberal side of her that liked to think it lived by a world-be-damned attitude, immediately tried to console her. She turned back to the laptop and tried to concentrate on the task in front of her.

             
She supposed he must have dialed at least three times in succession before giving up.  She hit the mute button, plugged in her iPod and locked out the world.

             
James was disappointed when she didn
’
t answer. He wanted to explain
his actions
last night. He ha
d no idea what she was thinking but h
e guessed whatever it was, couldn
’
t be good.

             
He was good at masking his emotions,
at
not letting himself go, especially when he knew there was no tomorrow. It felt different with her. It felt
like
they
’d
already had many yesterdays and tomorrow was more than a possibility. James no was no believer in love at first sight, but he knew without a doubt, he was in love with her. He
knew he
was in love with her
from
the moment those big brown eyes
had
stared up at him from the car. His feelings were not rational. It was not that he fell in love with her
; i
t was as if he had always loved her. Something familiar and sensual in her woke a part of him that
had
never existed before. He wanted her. He felt he had
always
wanted
her
, and not just for
a
quick romp in the sack.

             
"The car is a write-off," Larry said.

             
James turned to the intruder. He was deep in thoughts. Larry was briefing him on the
wrecked
cars.

             
"What?"

             
"The Volkswagen is a total write-off. I have arranged for the Porsche to be sold to a salvage dealer and arrangements for the replacement have already been made."

             
"Buy her a new car."

             
"I say we offer her market value for the car before the accident."

             
"Buy her a new car," James repeated.

             
"Her car was three years old I think -."

             
"Buy the newest model
in
the same style," James said. "Also Larry, please send two dozen orange and white roses to WB Marketing and arrange
for Giles
to delivery similar to her home."

             
"Is
there a message?"  Larry asked abruptly.

             
"Yes," James said. "Sorry."

             
"I beg your pardon, Sir."

             
"The message should say sorry."

             
"Sir, I do not believe -."

             
"You only hide behind formalities when you have something to say that you know I
won’t
like
, so spit it out already
. What is it?"

             
"I think it is enough that we are getting her a new car. I do not see why we should grovel at her feet. It was an accident plain and simple."

             
"Thank you
for your observations.  Now do as I said and l
et me know when the flowers are delivered."

             
Larry was surprised
, taken aback even
. James was usually mindful of his input.

             
The doorbell interrupted the otherwise quiet afternoon. Willow was skeptical as she opened the door. She made a mental note to
install a peephole in
the front door so she could see who her visitors were before opening
up
. It was the driver from the previous evening. He stood with a large basket of roses.

             
"Giles?"
s
he
said hoping she had recalled his name correctly
.

             
"Miss Barnes," he said
politely
. "I was asked to deliver these to you."

             
"Oh," she said as she took the basket from him. "Thank you. Please, if we
’
re going to be bumping into each other on this small rock, call me Willow."

             
The driver smiled. He
then
gave her an envelope. It was not the one that came with the basket. It was a separate note. The envelope bore
the
beautiful and neat insignia of JM. She thanked Giles and closed the door. She put the basket of flowers on the nearest surface that would have it and opened the envelope.

             
It read, '
I am sorry about last night. My intention was not to make you uncomfortable. I would like to try again. I promise to be more civil this time. Wednesday evening 6:00 p.m.  Please give your answer to the messenger
'.

             
"Oh my," Willow said as she ran to the door. Giles was standing there as if he knew he had to wait. "I am so sorry. I thought that was it. Please come in. I am so sorry."

             
He nodded curtly as if to say he understood but stood his ground. 

             
"Come in," she repeated.

             
"I do not want to take up your time," he said.

             
"We don't have to be so formal."

             
"Yes ma'am," Giles said but did not enter.

             
Willow gave up. This time she left the door open. She found a pen and scratched a quick reply on a piece of paper, stuffed it in the envelope and gave it
back
to Giles.

             
"Have a good evening, ma'am."

             
With that he turned and left.

             
James was caught between anxiety and apprehension.  He stared at the envelope that
Giles
returned to him. His thoughts were
unusually negative.
What if she
’d
said no? What if he
’d
missed his chance with her?

             
It was late evening just before bed when he finally decided to read her reply.

             
'
Hello James, I would like to thank you for the offer. However, I believe it is best if we do not see each other again. I too
,
am sorry about last night. I was not my usual self. - WB
.'

             
He folded the paper and tucked it away in the top drawer of his bedside table. The answer was disappointing
but not unexpected
.

             
He lay on his back, hands folded behind his head. He thought about her, about her smile. He remembered the way she felt against him, how warm her breath was against his lips. She didn't hesitate, didn't pull away when others had closed their eyes in disgust. No other had so excited or intrigued him.

             
He had to see her. He turned out the lights and in the darkness, hatched a plan
to do just that
.

             
Willow made it to WB Marketing at almost eleven thirty on Wednesday morning. She spent Tuesday doing what she did best, her photography. She was acutely aware of the receptionist giving her a new look. Then Nancy French, her partner walking out of her office as Willow whizzed by.

             
"Did I miss a meeting?" Willow asked.

             
"You didn't tell me you were seeing someone," Nancy said catching up to her longtime friend.

             
"I'm not seeing anyone," Willow said.

             
"Liar."

             
Another associate passed and more stares.