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Authors: Margaret Tanner

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BOOK: Make Love Not War
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She shook her head.

“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven. I know of a cozy place we can go to. You don’t need to dress up for it, either.”

“Sounds nice, thank you.”

“You might as well go home now. There’s nothing else needs doing here.” He inclined his head in dismissal.

Hurrying back to her desk, she tried to keep a lid on her excitement. She told herself to not get too carried away. He was only taking her out to make up for his mean treatment earlier, but she didn’t care. The reason didn’t matter. He was taking her out. She would gladly go anywhere with him. You fool. You pitiful fool, falling for such a bribe.

She tidied up her desk, left the office, and on the bus going home daydreamed about going out with Bryce. What would she call him? She would love to be able to call him Bryce again, but didn’t dare, unless he suggested it. She wouldn’t call him Mr. Harrington either, she decided with a sudden spurt of spirit.

On arrival home she made a cup of tea before going into a cleaning frenzy. She wanted the apartment to look its best in case he came in, and she wouldn’t have much time on Wednesday to clean it up. The fact that it was her birthday made it all the more thrilling.

“You’ll never guess what happened.” Caroline ambushed her friend the moment she stepped inside. “Bryce is taking me out for dinner tomorrow.” She didn’t mention about the happenings of the day.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Kerry had never met Bryce, but her friend disliked him. She shouldn’t have complained so often about his arrogance and moodiness. Her constant complaints about the way he carried on made things sound worse than they really were.

If she hadn’t been in love with him, she wouldn’t have given his behavior a second thought. At least he didn’t use foul language or throw things at her like one executive she’d heard about. A girl she’d attended secretarial college with worked for some lecher who kept squeezing her breasts and pinching her on the backside, yet she stayed with him because the job paid well. At least Bryce acted like a gentleman in that respect.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

Wednesday dawned warm and sunny. Caroline worked steadily, trying to keep her excitement in check. Bryce dashed in and out of the office several times, but apart from a brief good morning, only spoke about business matters.

Mr. Davie
s, Bryce and his father were members of an eight-man board who held their monthly meetings on Wednesdays. She always took down the minutes.

“How are you, Caroline?” Alexander Harrington greeted her with a cheerful smile. “Did you enjoy the business dinner?”

“Yes, thank you.”   It wasn’t the business dinner she remembered from that evening, but Bryce’s fiery kisses.

She ate lunch at her desk then started typing up the minutes for the last meeting of the year. Just before clock-off time, Bryce poked his head around the door.

“You haven’t forgotten our dinner date, have you?”

Forgotten it?  She had thought of nothing else. “No, I haven’t forgotten.” She smiled at him.

“Good, you can go now. I’ll pick you up about seven.”

She rushed home, had a shower and washed her hair. By this time Kerry was home, and she not only helped Caroline put her hair up in a topknot, leaving a few wispy strands to form a half fringe, but loaned her a pair of gold prism drop earrings. The pale aqua dress she chose to wear had a double-ruffled lace collar, pin-tucked bodice and flared skirt, and sported cut-out shoulders with delicate scalloped edges.

“You look terrific,” Kerry enthused. She was a supportive friend even if she didn’t like Bryce.

Caroline paced the floor. Suppose he didn’t turn up?  Right on seven o’clock someone knocked on the door and she hurried toward it.

Kerry signaled her to take it slowly. “Keep him waiting for a bit,” she mouthed. “You don’t want to seem overeager.”

Caroline counted to twenty before opening the door. Bryce’s hand was raised, ready to knock again. Devastatingly handsome, he wore a chocolate brown suit with a cream silk, open-necked shirt. This man was movie star material.

“Come in.” Her heart skipped a beat at the appreciative gleam in his eyes. He liked what he saw. Her appearance hadn’t let her down. She stepped back a pace so he could enter the apartment.

“Kerry, this is Mr. Harrington.”

“Bryce,” he put in smoothly. We’re not in the office now. How are you, Kerry?”

“I’m o.k.”

Caroline was shocked when her friend stayed where she was, with a jean-clad leg hooked over the arm of the couch.

“If you’re ready, we’ll go. Goodnight, Kerry
,

Bryce said.

“Have a nice time, Caro.” 

Bryce closed the door behind them with a thud. It didn’t take a genius to know he was angry at Kerry’s snub. She was disappointed Kerry hadn’t even tried to hide her animosity.

They walked down the passageway and out into the street to where the Jaguar was parked. The sight of such a prestigious car would have set a few neighborhood tongues wagging. Her heart gave an excited skip.

Ever the gentleman, Bryce helped her into the car with a hand under one elbow. They didn’t speak as they drove along. She was too nervous and he seemed preoccupied.

After driving for about fifteen minutes he parked the car outside a double-storied terrace house, built from bluestone blocks.

“Good evening, Mr. Harrington.”  The manager greeted them at the door and ushered them inside. Obviously Bryce was well known. How many other women had he brought here?

A waiter escorted them to a table set for two in a secluded corner. Once seated, Caroline glanced around with interest. Hurricane lamps hung from the ceiling. The lighting was subdued and intimate, discrete ambience surrounding them.

“What a terrific place.” She smiled her pleasure and he squeezed her fingers.

“You look beautiful tonight, not at all like my efficient little secretary.” A play with words, but the
my
made her heart sing.

A bottle of vintage champagne arrived and they drank from crystal flutes.

“Happy birthday, Caroline.”  They clinked glasses.

She sipped her drink, enjoying every cool, delicious mouthful. “This is the nicest champagne I’ve ever tasted.”

He gave a soft, intimate chuckle, causing her heart to flutter like a caged bird.

They both chose avocados with walnut mayonnaise as an appetizer. When the band struck up a slow romantic number, he asked her to dance. She floated into his arms when they reached the tiny dance floor. He held her close and she once again thrilled at the touch of his hard, muscled thighs brushing against hers. Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against his chest, swaying in time to the music. If this turned out to be a dream, she never wanted to wake up.

His breath stirred her hair, and she smelled the subtle male scent of him, some expensive citrus aftershave and the faintest whiff of tobacco. If only the music would go on forever.

“Have you gone to sleep on me?”  His breath brushed her ear.

She laughed “It wouldn’t take much to rock me off, the music is so relaxing and you’re nice to lean against.”

He chuckled. “I must remember that. So, I’m nice to lean against. You’re refreshingly different.”

They returned to their table. Before the main course had been served, he pulled a small, neatly wrapped box from his pocket and gave it to her. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t expect a present. I don’t remember mentioning my birthday.”

“Your army friend told me on Saturday night.”

She undid the package to reveal a jewelers box. Inside, on a plain gold chain rested a black opal.

“It’s beautiful, but I…I couldn’t accept an expensive present like this.”

“Why not? I thought you must have liked black opals, since you chose one for my mother.”

“I do. They’re exquisite.”

“Please accept them from me.
Don’t worry about the expense.
I can afford it.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“You’re crying?”

“Yes,” her voice wobbled. “No one has ever given me such a beautiful gift before. I’ll treasure it always.”

When the tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks he leaned across the table and wiped them away with his thumb, a gentle action that was almost her undoing. She had to force herself not to grab hold of his hand and rest it against her heart.

The main course, roast duckling cooked with cherries, was accompanied by a salad. It tasted sensational and she enjoyed every bite. What an unforgettable night. She felt as though she was floating on a silver cloud, bound for paradise.

Between courses, they danced. The night flew on golden wings. They finished off with Irish coffee. As they danced the last bracket, she sighed with pleasure.

“This has been the most wonderful night,” she breathed.

He molded her body closer to his and held her there with a hand on either hip. She could feel his mouth nuzzling the side of her throat. What exquisite pleasure, deadly dangerous, but exquisite.

“We’ll go now. It’s nearly closing time,” he said huskily as he led her back to the table so she could pick up her gold evening bag. He peeled off several twenty-dollar notes and dropped them in the dish for the waiter to collect.

Hand in hand, they left the restaurant. The evening was cool but not cold, as they strolled towards the car. The sky sparkled with twinkling stars while the moon sailed the sky like some ghostly galleon on black velvet seas.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked softly, as if he too didn’t want to break the magic spell enveloping them.

“Oh yes,” she whispered dreamily. “I’ll never forget it.”

After they drove off his hand closed over hers, warm and strong. She felt on top of the world. All too soon they arrived back at the apartment. He turned off the motor, the seat slid back with a click, giving them more leg room. He drew her into his arms and his head blotted out the star-studded night sky as his mouth covered hers.

He tempted and teased her lips until they quivered and opened so she could feel his tongue making a tentative exploration of her mouth. A surge of desire raced through her. His hand cupped her breast for a moment, for the merest fraction of a second his thumb caressed her nipple. When he moved away she felt bereft.

“Would you care to come in for a coffee?”

He hesitated. “I wouldn’t like to disturb your friend.”

“Kerry’s not home, she’s gone out with Trevor.”

She didn’t want the evening to end yet. “Come on, you needn’t stay long. It’s only eleven o’clock.”  She played with fire and knew it.

“I could do with a coffee,” he admitted. “Thanks. I will come in.”

He locked the car then took her hand as they made their way to the apartment foyer. She fumbled with the key, and he took it from her unsteady fingers and unlocked the door. When she turned on the light, they both blinked at the sudden glare. “I think I’ll put this off and switch on the TV lamp.”

“Good idea.” He followed her into the room.

“Sit on the couch,” she invited. “It’s the most comfortable.”

“Thanks.” He sat down, stretching his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle.

“Would you prefer tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, but in a minute, I haven’t finished kissing you yet.”

He took her hand, pulling her down to sit next to him.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight, Bryce.”

“Good.” His fingers moved through her hair. “I like it better loose.”  He pulled out the pins, causing the soft strands to tumble over her shoulders. “Beautiful,” he muttered, burying his face in it. “Smells good, too.”

He took her lips with a demanding passion. There was nothing gentle about his possession this time.  She trembled with emotion as she gave him the response he sought. As his passion intensified so did hers.

He rained kisses over her face and throat. His tongue, flicking and darting in her mouth, entwined with hers, tasting, but still not fully satisfied.

“Kiss me,” he urged huskily.

She did so, exploring his mouth tentatively with her tongue at first but gaining in confidence. His hand caressing her breast through her frock aroused her to unfamiliar desire.

Her trembling fingers unbuttoned his shirt and she buried her face in the soft whorls of hair on his chest. She could feel his heart pounding, smell his male scent and hear the throbbing, primeval music of sexual desire.

He found the buttons and undid the front of her frock. Pushing it down to her waist, he quickly did the same to her bra. She gasped in delight as his mouth closed over her bare breast and he suckled the rosy nipple into life. She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her. How he made her feel
,
wanton, truly alive for the first time in her life.

His body half covered hers, his weight pressing her into the couch. He raised his mouth before taking her lips again in a fiery expression of raw need. She didn’t feel him pushing away her skirt, only felt his fingers caressing the bare flesh of her thigh. Even with her lack of experience there was no mistaking his intention.

BOOK: Make Love Not War
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