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it,” she assured him. “And,
Gregory?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Wear something informal.”
    “Tired of suits already? Dang! I have just one more I was
hoping you’d see.”
    Birthday Suit. Didn’t that joke ever get old? She
smiled. “I bet you do!”
    “Behave!” he scolded her.
    “I’ll try.” Laughing, she hung up. She threw the duvet aside
and stretched her body, feeling lighter than she had in years.
    She couldn’t wait for their evening together, wondering
where he’d take her on their first date.
    * * * * *
    Tending her garden and basking in the burst of warm spring
sunshine only improved her mood as the day wore on. All too soon, Elena headed
into the shower, ready to wash away the lingering smells of grime and sweat.
    She opted for dark-blue stretch jeans, a contrasting
turtleneck sweater, and pulled out her suede boots. Neither too formal nor
informal, since she had no idea where she’d be heading to.
    A few more minutes …
    She took a deep breath to quell the butterflies in her
stomach. They fluttered harder. She could do this! A date. What could possibly
go wrong? Not wanting to jinx herself, she mentally scratched the question as
the doorbell rang.
    Switching off the lights, she grabbed her purse and went to
the door. She had absolutely no intention of putting herself in an awkward
position—certainly not after the fiasco that was their last meet.
    His hot stare made her cheeks burn and his appreciative grin
brought the damn butterflies back. The air between them crackled with hidden
electricity.
    “Whoa. Hard to compete with that,” he teased. He held up his
hands. “This good?”
    She took in his jeans and sports shirt and gave him a
thumbs-up, still too dumbstruck to speak. He shepherded her into his car and
whisked her away. She didn’t tear her gaze off him, the ride passing in
amicable, yet sizzling silence until they pulled into a crowded parking lot.
    She tensed when he got out, coming around to hold the door
open for her. “Where are we?”
    “Relax.” His whisper made her more than relaxed—it melted
her on the spot. He guided her into the buzzing place. “All we need to do is
bowl and have a good time. Nothing else.”
    Though she doubted she could relax enough to enjoy,
surprisingly, she did.
    At least the visuals—the ripple of muscles as he bent and
took aim, his derriere flexing beneath the snug jeans each time he rolled the
ball—inspired her in addition to making her drool. She was self-conscious at
first, never having tried bowling before, but soon enough, she got the hang of
it, enjoying the thrill of smashing those pins!
    The late night dinner on a rooftop restaurant complemented
what she categorized as a perfect evening out. Conversation flowed smoothly
without a hint of awkwardness, the buzzing in her body enhanced by a glass of
wine. He didn’t pressure her in any way—neither with words, nor with
expectations—but the banked desire in his eyes, the intense looks over the rim
of his wineglass scorched the space between them. The light banter trailed off
when she recognized the futility of staving off the inevitable.
    He made her wet. He made her want. She didn’t know how she
could put off his advances. Did she even want to? Especially when curiosity
warred with her inherent caution, making her want to let go, grab what he
offered. What did he offer exactly? Sex? Relationship? Whatever it was, she was
ready.
    “After you’re done…” She caught and held his gaze. “Let’s
continue this in a more private setting.”
    “Hot damn!” He threw down the napkin, signaling the waiter
for the check, reaching out for her across the table. “Let’s go.”
    They exited the restaurant in a hurry, his need fueling
hers. The rigid set of his jaw didn’t budge until they reached her place,
without a word being uttered. He knew she wanted him.
    Blaming her swift desire to jump his bones on lack of
proper, man-induced orgasms didn’t work. Not when he came so close