Just One Kiss. Isabel Sharpe
been a year and a half so far.”
She nearly choked. A year and a half! “And … this is supposed to go on how much longer?”
“Another six months.”
Good God. Two years of celibacy? What kind of person would extract a promise like that? “Is this a possible priesthood thing?”
“No, no, it’s not about religion.”
She simply stared.
Daniel glanced impatiently at the ceiling and sighed. “I guess I better tell you the story.”
“You don’t have to.” Of course he did; she was dying to hear. “It’s not really any of my business.”
But tell it anyway.
“I was engaged. She passed away. And I promised her …” He had the grace to look sheepish. “Okay, it sounds odd now.”
Angela was pleading the Fifth on that one.
“But it was … she asked me not to date until our planned wedding date passed. Which is six months from now.”
Good God. Angela’s first try at dating and she’d managed to stumble over an unbelievably sexy, magnetically masculine, completely dysfunctional weirdo who’d engaged himself to a controlling, selfish horror of a person whose hold on him was even more diabolical than Tom’s on her.
Though he was in one way, at least, the antithesis of Tom, who didn’t let marriage vows even slow him down screwing the first woman he wanted. This guy had honored a vow that denied him a basic human need, a vow the woman he’d made it to wouldn’t even know or be able to care if he broke. Zero repercussions except from his own guilt and damaged sense of honor.
She couldn’t help admiring that quality. On some level this was a noble and romantic sacrifice for the woman he’d loved.
On the other hand … what a colossal waste. And what was this woman thinking when she extracted such a promise? That the sun rose and set on her and he needed to keep it that way even after she was gone? Angela tried to put herself in the same position and couldn’t imagine saying to a man she loved anything but, “Go out there and be happy. Keep living your life as fully as you can. I am not and never should be your entire world.” Maybe she’d be selfish enough to ask him not to forget her, but that was it.
It might not be polite to disrespect dead people, but Angela was pretty sure she wouldn’t have liked this chick. Not as a friend for herself and not as a match for Daniel. White-on-white should not be paired with a chocolate guy.
“Well.” She tried to speak brightly, but disappointment was deeper than she’d expected. “I guess that’s a no, then.”
“I’m sorry.” He had a funny bewildered expression on his face, as if he were finding out he really was sorry, and it surprised him. Sorry and embarrassed and maybe a bit wistful.
His expression gave Angela permission to have a really wonderful and slightly devious idea.
She’d need to do this carefully and make sure she wasn’t stepping over sacred boundaries, but what if she used the power of their attraction, which she was sure now she hadn’t imagined, for a good purpose? Something more selfless than satisfying her hunger for touch and physical intimacy, which frankly Daniel had wrenched awake—a greedy, cranky, post-hibernation bear of a hunger. Something that would set him free from the unnecessary trap he found himself in, that would strike a blow for men and women everywhere who were unable to break free of ex-lovers, fiancés and spouses. Something that would make Daniel realize that he might owe this woman his past love and fond memories, but that he absolutely did not owe her from-the-grave dictatorship over his actions or his feelings or his body, and especially not over the pursuit of his own happiness, which was a constitutional right.
Something like Angela getting to know him. Becoming friends with him. And when he least expected having his unreasonable and unnecessary sentence commuted …
Seducing him.
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