Daring in the Dark. JENNIFER LABRECQUE
Simon’s hot-and-cold attitude. And if she was honest with herself, she was none too pleased with herself that he turned her on to the nth degree and annihilated her composure. Around him she couldn’t seem to think of anything beyond sex. With him. She’d nearly made a fool of herself when he’d put his hands on her shoulders. And then when he’d touched her breast…she’d come close to begging him to take her then and there, hard and fast, against the wall, in the hallway. Simon brought out a sensuality in her that she’d never known before and in some aspects frightened her with its intensity.
Silently Simon loaded the batteries into her boom box. His hands weren’t quite steady as he fumbled with the last one. Maybe the close confines were getting to him, too.
The radio blared to life. “…so, it looks like it’s a good old-fashioned blackout brought on by the incredible demand for a little air-conditioned relief from the triple-digit heat. Unfortunately, the lights are out across the Tristate area and authorities tell us they’re not sure when they’ll have the lights back on. It looks like it’s going to be a hot night, so just settle down where you are and stay put. In honor of the blackout, we’re going to open the lines for requests and dedications that have to do with hot and summer. And I guess we’ll be seeing a bunch of newborns nine months from now. Hey, you’ve got to pass the time somehow. Let’s start this set with an oldie, ‘Love The One You’re With’.” Tawny reached over and turned it off.
Trapped in her apartment with Simon for the night? Tawny bit back her panic. Danger signals exploded in her brain—her, Simon, candlelight—and already it felt as if the temperature in her apartment had increased a few degrees.
“Well, we can forget take-out Thai. Are you hungry?” Sure, leave it to the fat girl to bring up food, but dammit, she was starving. And it took her mind off sex. And Simon. And sex with Simon. Well, probably not, but she was still hungry.
He grinned and she was totally disarmed by the flash of his white teeth in the dim lighting. “I’m famished. I could chew nails.”
“I don’t keep much food on hand. There’s a deli a block and a half away. Do you think it would still be open?”
“It should. During the 2003 blackout, food stores were selling out because they didn’t know how long their power would be out. Better to sell it than let it ruin. I’ve even got some cash on me. Let’s give it a go.” He smiled with a touch of self-conscious eagerness. “And I wouldn’t mind burning a roll or two of film.”
Duh. He was a photographer. Of course he’d like to be taking pictures. And it was incredible how his whole demeanor changed when he talked about photography.
“Sure. Food and photographs. Works for me,” she said.
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