Mission: Marriage. Hannah Bernard
sorry too,” she said, throwing her arms around the stranger’s neck. “It was a such a mistake,” she mumbled into his chest, feeling exhilarated by her uncharacteristic behavior. The man’s arms came around her in a tight hug and she felt his breath against her hair as her nose squashed against his shoulder.
Oh, wow. This was interesting. No wonder people went out on dates if this sort of thing happened to them on a regular basis.
“What’s going on?” a familiar whiny voice demanded. Lea pulled away from the stranger, who kept his arm around her shoulders, and tried to look contrite and deliriously happy at the same time. Good thing she’d taken those acting lessons back in high school, but then again, the prospect of escaping Mr. Footsie the Sulk was indeed occasion for delirious happiness. That last glass of wine hadn’t hurt either.
“I’m sorry, James, but this is my…fiancé,” she told him. “We recently broke up…but…” she tightened her hold of her savior’s arm and smiled up at him. “It was a mistake. We belong together.”
The blonde, back from the rest room, joined them, looking furious at seeing her date with another woman in his arms. “What the hell is going on? Who’s that?”
“I’m sorry, Beth,” he said. “I’m in love with her. I always was. I thought we were over, but when I saw her again…” The stranger smiled down at Lea, and once again the look in his eyes was so loving and passionate that she was almost fooled herself.
He was good.
“Beth…” He looked at the blonde. “I’m sorry. I thought I was ready to date again, but when I saw her again, I just knew…I’m sorry to cut our date so short. Can you understand?”
“Of course. It’s okay,” the blonde said, her eyes widening. “Oh, this is so romantic…I’m so happy for you.” Lea was astonished to see tears fill the blonde’s eyes. “So romantic,” she sniffed. “Just like on Rendezvous with Romance. I haven’t missed an episode since I was sixteen. This could be Pierre and Paradise, realizing they’re still in love despite everything.” She jumped at them, wrapping one arm around each of their necks, giving Lea a constructive lesson in perfumes-to-wear-on-first-dates. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Beth.” Blue Eyes kissed the blonde on the cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
Lea sneaked a peek at James. She imagined he wouldn’t be quite so understanding. More likely that he was on the verge of another tantrum.
James’s jaw was working, his face flushed in anger, but he seemed to be working on a way to save his wounded pride. He stared at Beth for a while and took a deep breath, collecting his dignity. Then he stood up, gave a small bow and gestured toward Lea’s abandoned chair, ignoring Lea and Blue Eyes completely. “Why don’t you join me?” he offered. “It looks like we’re both getting dumped, so we might as well finish our meals together, don’t you think?”
Beth’s cherubic face lit up and she wasted no time in claiming her seat. “Absolutely. Thank you!”
Lea stuttered some hurried goodbyes as her savior insisting on leaving money on the table to pay for all four meals, then put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her toward the exit. She made a mental note of remembering to pay him back, but then everything was drowned in cheerful applause from every corner of the restaurant. Blue Eyes turned around and bowed, his arm still tight around her. Lea felt her face catch fire. She glanced up at him, and he grinned back. Was this something he did every day? All in a dating day’s work?
She waved weakly to their audience, shrugged his arm from her shoulder and grabbed his hand. She’d do the leading. She wanted out of here. Now.
Her motives for the sudden escape got the predictable interpretation, and laughter and a few wolf whistles slid through the door as it closed behind them.
What an evening.
This was it. Hand kisses from hunky strangers or not—dating was definitely not for her. Too risky. Too dangerous. Too unsettling.
She glanced sideways to the man holding her hand.
Too…exciting?
“Wow,” she breathed as soon as they had turned the corner and were out of sight of the restaurant windows. She stopped, almost stumbling on her heels, and glanced back toward the restaurant, relieved despite everything. She wouldn’t have to go through the rest of the evening. The kissing dilemma had mercifully vanished. “Did that really happen, or am I having a very surreal dream?”
“It happened, believe it or not.” The stranger grinned as he released her hand. “We’re off the hook. Thank you for the rescue.”
“Thank you.” She shuddered. “What was happening to me was infinitely worse than green bubble gum.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I noticed the cat and mouse game under the table. Not exactly a gentleman, is he?”
Lea shrugged. “You tell me. That’s not a part of the regular dating ritual?”
The man frowned in confusion. “Ritual? Uh, no. Not that I know of, anyway.”
“I don’t do this a lot, you see. It’s good to hear that’s not the standard. He…Oh! Poor Beth!” Lea groaned. “No, we can’t do this. We can’t leave her like this.”
“Don’t worry about Beth. She’s a bit of a man-eater. A sentimental, cries at the drop of a hat, man-eater. If that guy goes out of line, he’s likely to find himself with a lapful of gravy.” He held out a hand. “I’m Thomas Carlisle.”
“Lea Rhodes.”
Thomas smiled. “Nice to meet you. Can I call you a taxi? Walk you to your car? Give you a ride home?”
“Taxi would be good. I just want to get home, curl up with my cat and cry my mascara off.”
“Was it that bad?”
“I believe I’ve got the imprint of his toes on my ankle.”
He winced. “Ouch. My sympathies. Some guys have no class.”
“Dating sucks,” she muttered. “And I’m no good at it.”
“It’s an art form,” he agreed. “An acquired skill, definitely. Acquired taste, too. Not for everybody.”
“You sound like an expert.”
He grinned. “Yeah, well, when you’re not interested in wedding bells and not looking to settle down, you get an extended run at the dating part. As they say, practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?”
“Practice makes perfect?” She stared at him, wheels struggling to churn in her head. She wasn’t drunk yet,—but after a cocktail and two glasses of Chardonnay on an empty stomach she was damn close.
Practice? Hmm…Here she had run into someone not interested in commitment, just in casual dating. A serial dater. Someone with plenty of experience in this, someone who knew all about what, when and how when it came to the dating game.
He was right. He was perfect.
CHAPTER TWO
HE’D rescued the cutest damsel in distress from her own dragon’s claws—a creep who thought he could grope his way to a woman’s heart. He wasn’t sure why his intervention had been needed—why the lady hadn’t simply thrown her drink in the guy’s face and fled the restaurant.
He wasn’t sure either what had possessed him to stage such an elaborate play to rescue her. That hadn’t been a part of the deal. He was just supposed to call Anne on his cell phone and she’d handle the rest—probably phone Lea and stage a fake emergency to get her out of there.
But something—he wasn’t sure if it was the tediousness of his own blind date, or the fascinating twinkle in Lea’s eyes when they’d communicated silently across the room