“Yes, I’d like that,” she said.
He inhaled in quick relief. “All right. Then I’ll see you this evening.”
“Yes.”
He wanted to kiss her again. He took another look at her, sitting in his bed with her hair appealingly disheveled, her skin still lightly flushed from sleep, her bare shoulders rising above the sheet she held lightly against her chest, and he knew he’d better not get within touching distance of her if he wanted to make his meeting.
He cleared his throat. “I’d better go. Make yourself at home. Anything you need, just ask Martha. If you want to go anywhere, I’ll leave your name with the security gate so you’ll be able to come back in without a hassle.”
He didn’t think he could make it any clearer that she was still welcome in his home.
“I’ll be fine, Andrew. Don’t be late for your meeting because of me.”
He nodded and turned toward the door. He paused there and looked over his shoulder to find her watching him. He felt the need to say something meaningful, something that would let her know how much the past few hours had meant to him.
Yet all he could do was nod and repeat, “I’ll see you this evening.” He had a feeling he would be reminding himself of that all day.
NICKY PULLED UP her knees and rested her chin on them, staring thoughtfully at the door Andrew had closed behind him when he left. He’d seemed awfully reluctant to leave. She liked knowing that he’d wanted to spend more time with her.
He was an odd man. Darned if she could tell what he was thinking most of the time. But he could still make her tremble with a look, make her melt with a touch.
And when he’d made love to her, it had, quite simply, been like nothing she’d ever known before.
Something about him drew her. Something she saw in his eyes at times made her want to hold him, tease him, make him smile. He needed her, she mused. She’d known it since that first, powerful midnight kiss.
But, as they spent more time together, would Andrew reach the same conclusion? Or would he convince himself that he’d been better off before she’d entered his life?
8
“YOU DID WHAT?” Amy Holiday stared in frank disbelief at her older sister, a can of cola suspended, forgotten, halfway to her mouth.
Sitting at the kitchen table in her sister’s tiny rental mobile home, Nicky winced. “You heard me. I met a guy at the New Year’s Eve party at Joyce and Norvell’s club and I spent the night with him.”
Amy set the cola can on the table. “Nicky, this is so unlike you. I mean, sure, you can be impulsive, but not when it comes to men. You’ve always been so careful and selective.”
“The way I was with Stu?” Nicky asked with a touch of bitterness.
Now it was Amy’s turn to wince. “Okay, so Stu was a mistake. But you didn’t go to bed with him within hours of meeting him,” she added.
“Trust me, I know. But I never reacted to anyone the way I did to Andrew. I fell. Hard, and fast.”
Amy’s dark eyes went round. “This sounds serious.”
“I think it is.”
“You’ve only known him for a day.”
Nicky shrugged. “That doesn’t seem to matter.”
“Wow. And to think I never believed in love at first sight.”
“It wasn’t at first sight, exactly. More at first kiss,” Nicky mused.
“What are you going to do?”
Nicky shrugged. “Hope for the best.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”