Night Moves. Julie Kenner
She had to be imagining that. And when she blinked and looked again, it was just Shane, his expression decidedly pleased and self-satisfied, but this time there was nothing heated in his eyes.
Was that disappointment she felt? No, it couldn’t possibly be. Curiosity, maybe. Yeah. That’s all. She took a tentative step into the apartment. “What are you doing here?”
“Come on in and see.”
She squinted at him, then moved farther inside, her steps taking her beyond the trifold screen she’d bought off eBay six months ago. Shane had been standing just beside it, so she’d been able to see him, but her tiny table had been blocked by the screen, which formed a makeshift dining room-cum-office in the small apartment.
Now she could see her table. This morning it had been piled high with books. Stacks of erotic literature. Various cataloging manuals and piles of art history texts. And the latest J.D. Robb, which she kept as a reward for when she got enough schoolwork done.
Now the books were gone. The usually scratched tabletop was covered with a white linen tablecloth. Two place settings in a china Ella didn’t recognize took up most of the tabletop. Shane placed the rose in a slim vase in the center. A bottle of champagne was chilling in a bucket next to the table. Champagne was Ella’s secret vice, and her eyes widened with surprise.
“What is all this?”
“I thought you could use a relaxing evening. And I wanted to buy you dinner before I went away.”
“Buy?”
He nodded toward the tiny kitchen, and she saw the stacks of white boxes and round foil containers. “Craft,” he said, referring to Ella’s favorite restaurant and one of the hottest dining establishments in the city.
“You got Craft to go?”
He laughed. “My boss knows one of the chefs. I called in a favor and he said to call it my ‘kick butt in Texas’ present.”
She couldn’t help her smile. “They know what a prize they got when you picked Uncle Sam over some big law firm. I bet everyone is sorry to see you go—and jealous they’re not on the task force, too.”
“There’s a little envy,” he admitted. “And there are definite downsides to leaving, even if it is the biggest opportunity of my life. But you know I couldn’t not take it.”
“I know.” And she did. They were too much alike for her not to understand. In a way, ambition defined them. And, in a way, ambition had raised them. Certainly their parents hadn’t bothered to do the job. Instead they’d both reached for something else, something to give them an identity other than an accident of birth. They were each determined to make themselves.
It didn’t take a pop-psychology class to get to the heart of it. Ella knew that both her academic drive and her need for a cohesive family stemmed from her pathetic childhood. She knew it, she understood it and she wouldn’t change it.
Just as she wouldn’t change Shane’s ambition. It was part of who he was. And although she was sad about him leaving, she knew too well what he’d be giving up if he stayed. Almost as much as she’d be giving up if she took Ronnie’s suggestion and walked away from the life she could have with Tony.
She glanced again around her apartment. The shock of seeing Shane had worn off, replaced by the realization that she’d eaten next to nothing today. “Dinner, huh?”
“I may be leaving on Monday, but in the meantime, I thought we could stuff ourselves silly and then kick back on the couch and watch…” He trailed off, turning slightly to rummage behind him as Ella looked on, amused.
Finally he turned back, this time with a DVD case from Blockbuster. He handed it to her. Their fingers brushed as she took the case, and any illusions that Ella might have had that she’d be able to keep this sudden lust thing under control dissolved under the force of the sparks shooting through her fingers. Damn it all and damn Ronnie. Those books were making Ella a basket case.
She looked down, sure her cheeks were flaming, and concentrated on opening the box. When she did, though, her discomfiture faded, replaced by a burst of genuine laughter when she saw what was inside: Monty Python and the Holy Grail. One of her favorite movies, and one that she and Shane had seen over and over and over.
“How ever did you know?”
“I’m just a perceptive kind of guy,” he said.
“I guess so,” she murmured. But she wasn’t really thinking about her words. She’d moved closer to him to take the DVD, but now the movie was the last thing on her mind. His scent filled her head. Kouros. A cologne he’d worn every day for at least a decade. She was as familiar with the musky scent as she was with Shane himself. So why did both seem so new right now? New and heady and unbelievably sensual?
And the way he looked…
When she’d left the apartment this morning, he’d been decked out in denim shorts and a thin gray muscle shirt. The outfit had accentuated his rugged good looks, decidedly unlawyerly. If she’d snapped a Polaroid of him before she’d walked out the door, she had no doubt he could make the cover of any calendar of sexy men.
It had been that image of masculine virility that had spawned her fantasies in the library, and any suggestion that Shane might look even more sexy fully clothed would have seemed preposterous.
Now, though, Ella knew it wasn’t preposterous at all.
He was freshly shaved, his thick hair combed back with just a bit of gel, but that one unruly strand still fell across his forehead, brushing the top of his dark eyebrows. His jawline formed a rugged angle that almost screamed for her to reach out and stroke it.
Even his tie was sexy, all the more so since she knew the broad chest it lay against, as well as the rugged, muscled abdomen she’d reveal if her fingers loosened that tie and went to work on those buttons.
And his butt! Good Lord, it really should be a crime the way his ass filled out the tight denim.
“Ella? Ella!”
Her name seemed to cut through some fog in her brain and she blinked. “What? I’m here. What?”
The look he shot her was filled with amusement. “I went into the kitchen to check on the stuff warming in the oven and you went comatose on me. What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing!” Then she added, “Nothing. Really. Just school stuff. I guess I’m still winding down.”
“Well, hurry up with that. We don’t have that much more time before I’m out of here. I don’t want to share you with Ronnie or any of your other professors tonight.”
“Right. Sure.”
“And thank God Tony’s out of town this week, or I swear I’d have to arm wrestle him for the chance to hang out with you before I left.”
She smiled and shrugged. Tony and Shane got along okay on the surface, but neither one of them would have been thrilled by the idea of all three of them hanging out together. Under the surface, there was some definite tension.
“Do you want to change? Dinner’s just about ready.”
She nodded, mute, then turned to the armoire that doubled as a television stand and closet. She grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a cotton tank top. As she headed into the tiny bathroom, she wasn’t really thinking about changing clothes, though. And even though she knew she should be, she wasn’t thinking about Tony either. Instead her thoughts had drifted back to her conversation with Ronnie.
Sleep with Shane?
The thought, which she’d earlier examined fairly objectively from a psychological perspective, now held real, solid appeal. A terrifying amount of appeal, actually, and she wondered if maybe she should just—
Stop it, Ella. Just stop it.
And besides, there wasn’t any risk that her little blip of desire