TheTemptationNotJustifiedAReFinal (2 page)

“No.”

The
change in him was subtle, but she saw it nonetheless. There was a shift in his
eyes, and then he crossed his arms on the tabletop and leaned forward, offering
his undivided attention. “Thanks to my loudmouthed friends, you know why we
came out tonight. What brought you ladies out?”

“It’s
my birthday.”

He
raised his eyebrows. “Well, happy birthday. I’m not even going to ask your age
because I know better.”

“Smart
man.” They both laughed. The tension in her shoulders lessened. “So . . .
astrophysicist? I don’t meet one every day. How did that happen?”

“You
really want to know?”

“Yes,
I really do.”

“I’ll
give you the short version. My mother bought a telescope for my tenth birthday,
and ever since then I’ve been fascinated by astronomy. I became obsessed. At
night, I would get up after I should have been asleep, pull aside the curtains,
and watch the stars. I was in awe of the universe and amazed by its beauty. As
I got older, I wanted to know more.

“I
studied ancient civilizations, their take on astronomy and its relevance in
guiding their everyday lives. I read every book I could get my hands on about
Galileo. Imagine, we now see him as the father of astronomy and physics, but in
the early part of the seventeenth century, they placed him under house arrest
because he dared to contradict the geocentric view at the time that the earth
was the center of the universe. He argued that it was the sun, and scientists
back then—” He stopped, then grinned ruefully. “I got carried away. Boring,
right?”

“No,
not at all.” Boring was the last thing she thought of him. He spoke so
passionately about the subject, she practically felt his excitement. She could
imagine him behaving the same way as a child. She’d never thought much about
astrophysics, but she definitely wanted to know more now. “I think it’s kind of
. . . interesting.”

He
groaned and, making air quotes with his hands, repeated, “Interesting?”

Celeste
nodded. “In a good way.”

“Years
ago it wasn’t in a ‘good way.’ I wasn’t the most popular kid in school, and I
wore the Coke-bottle-lens glasses to match.”

“You
wear glasses?”

“No.
Thank God for laser eye surgery. And puberty.” They both chuckled.

Especially
puberty.

“You
guys kind of screwed up the whole Pluto thing, didn’t you?” Celeste teased. “In
elementary school I learned Pluto was a planet, now it’s not. I’m so
disillusioned.”

Roarke
hung his head. “No one cares about the 999,999 things we get correct,” he said
in a sorrowful voice. “Only the one thing we get wrong. Scientists are human,
too.”

Xander
returned to the table. “Where is everybody?”

“Lucas
took my friends onto the dance floor.”

Xander
glanced from one to the other. “You know, I think I’ll go help him out.” He
winked.

“He’s
real subtle, isn’t he?” Roarke shook his head. “Okay, so what’s your story?”

Celeste
shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I recently graduated from Georgia Tech with
a degree in public policy.”

“My
younger brother and sister graduated from there. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.
Now I need to find a job.” She took a deep breath. “And I have a six-year-old
daughter. My world revolves around her.” She liked to mention her daughter up
front, which caused some men to run in the opposite direction. She watched his
reaction, but he didn’t flinch.

“I
understand.”

The
vehemence with which he said the words prompted Celeste to ask, “Do you have
kids?”

“No,
but I raised my younger brother and sister from the time I was eighteen. I tell
them all the time they’re my kids.”

“What
happened to your parents, if you don’t mind my asking?”

The
immediate transformation in his disposition made her regret the question. The
smile on his lips evaporated, and his face became shuttered. Even though she’d
tried to tread carefully, her question had obviously been too personal and made
him uncomfortable.

“They’re
both dead.”

“I’m
sorry. I—”

“There’s
nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t know, and they died a long time ago.” He
seemed to force himself back into a lighthearted mood. “Are you having fun on
your birthday?”

She
pretended not to notice the abrupt change in conversation. “I haven’t been here
long, but . . .” She let her voice trail off. “Well, to be honest, this isn’t
what I wanted to do tonight. I would much rather go somewhere quiet and listen
to a small ensemble play jazz or something.”

“Really?
I wouldn’t mind doing the same thing.” He edged closer, and her skin warmed to
his nearness. His voice lowered to a warm purr. “Xander and Lucas got me a room
at the Ritz-Carlton for the night and invited me here. Since they’re paying for
everything, I thought I’d better stick around, but . . . I think you and I may
be victims of meddling friends. Am I right?”

Celeste
nodded. His conspiratorial tone made her curious.

A
speculative look came into his eyes. “You know, there’s a spot around the
corner. They serve tapas and have a small band that plays jazz. Would you like
to check it out?”

She
hesitated. What did she know about him? He seemed harmless, but looks could be
deceiving. The battle scars crisscrossed all over her heart served as a
reminder.

He
leaned closer. Their eyes locked, and she held her breath against the
attraction that crackled across the short distance between them. His direct
gaze and flirtatious half smile caused tiny pinpricks of heat to surface along
the back of her neck.

“I’m
one of the good guys. I promise.”

A
good guy. Did they really exist? After years of disappointment, she had
dismissed the thought of finding one, treating the idea like an urban legend,
or a unicorn or some other mythical creature.

Nonetheless,
here was a man who claimed to be good, and the spicy scent of his cologne made
him smell delicious. Real delicious. The manly fragrance coupled with the
inviting sound of his voice made her second-guess herself. Maybe, just this
once, she was correct in her assessment.

“What
about our friends?” she asked.

“They’re
welcome to come, too.”

That
wasn’t what he was offering, and they both knew it. He knew she was attracted
to him, and he observed her with unabashed interest.

Her
mother’s words repeated in her head. “You’re young. It’s okay to have fun every
once in a while.”

This
could turn out to be a harmless flirtation. She wouldn’t go anywhere alone with
him. They would be walking down a public street to their next destination, a
public restaurant. She made a decision to shift into fun mode and closed the
door on anything less.

“Okay.
Let’s go.”

Chapter
Two

Roarke
felt a twinge of guilt at ditching his friends, but all he wanted to do was go
somewhere quieter where he could further engage Celeste in conversation. He
couldn’t believe his luck when he walked up to the table and saw the
caramel-skinned beauty he’d bumped into near the door.

Her
friends protested when they told them they planned to leave, but in the end,
they offered to meet up later. When they stepped out of Avery’s Juke Joint, the
cool breeze of late spring whispered over them and stirred the naturally curly
tendrils of her shoulder-length hair.

Cars
drove by at a slow crawl. Retail stores, condominium high-rises, and
restaurants lined either side of the street. Men and women dressed in their
weekend best passed by on the sidewalk.

“This
way,” Roarke said.

“How
do you know about this place?”

“Just
because I live in Athens doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on in the big
city,” he joked. He directed her down a side street toward the open door of
Tito’s Lounge. “The drive’s not bad, so I come to Atlanta every so often to
take a break, but I don’t get to do it much.” What an understatement. He’d kept
a busy schedule for as long as he could remember.

Tito’s
Lounge, located in the lower level of a three-story building, was already
filled with patrons anxious to see the night’s live performer. As they approached,
the buzz of conversation spilled from the open door and filled the air outside
the cozy space.

Celeste
preceded him into the lounge, and he took the opportunity to rest his hand
against the small of her back, as if to guide her through the door. Truth be
told, he’d wanted to find an excuse to touch her. Warmth suffused his palm, and
he kept his hand in place, as if it belonged there. He enjoyed the curve of her
back through the gold dress, and he wondered what it would be like if he
touched her bare skin.

She
glanced at him. They stood almost eye to eye. Her thick eyebrows looked like
they’d been carefully applied with the expert stroke of a painter’s brush. Her
lips parted and closed, as if she were about to say something but changed her
mind. He knew she felt the same awareness. It hovered between them.

He
watched as her lashes lowered toward her high cheekbones in a demure fashion.
As if she were bashful and didn’t know how hot she was. As if she didn’t know
she was wearing the hell out of that little gold strapless dress, which,
combined with those red heels with the ankle strap, made it look as if her legs
went on for miles.

“All
the tables in the main area are already reserved,” the host said. “But you’re
welcome to relax in the back. You won’t see the musicians, but you can still
hear the music.”

Roarke
turned his attention to Celeste to make sure she was fine with the arrangement,
and she nodded. The host guided them into the partially enclosed lounge, which
consisted of leather couches along three walls and a few coffee tables directly
in front of them. Red rosebud-shaped candleholders made of glass sat on each
table. The flickering light of the small candles inside each one formed a
luminescent glow that bounced off the crimson-painted walls.

Black-and-white
sketches of jazz greats like Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonious Monk, and Louis
Armstrong hung on the walls. Exposed pipes on the low ceiling gave the place a
rustic look. Only one other couple sat in the lounge, on the opposite side of
the room from where Celeste and Roarke lowered themselves. The couple was
huddled together and talking softly.

“This
is nice, Roarke. Much more my style than Avery’s.”

The
husky inflection of her voice made him want to ask her all kinds of questions just
to hear her talk. His name sounded like an invitation on her lips, and he
wondered what it would sound like when she sobbed it on her back with him
buried inside her.

He
couldn’t remember having such an intense, immediate attraction to a woman
before. In his effort to earn tenure, he’d been busy, with no time to do any
serious dating, particularly in the last couple of years. In addition to his
teaching requirements, he’d stayed occupied with research, writing, and filling
his service requirements. With that chapter closed, he would be able to relax
and enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Ready
to jump back into the driver’s seat and control the direction his life took,
the idea of settling down retained a prominent place in his mind. At
thirty-three years old, thoughts of marriage and starting a family plagued him.
It didn’t help his younger sister
was getting
married in a week.

“It’s
one of those hidden gems you selfishly hope other people don’t discover.”

She
sat with her long legs crossed over each other at the knees. With her height,
she could have been a model. On second thought, no. Other than small breasts, she
didn't have a model's shape. No way a body so thick and curvy could fit into a
size-one dress without busting the seams.

They
ordered drinks and a couple of appetizers, and Roarke settled back against the
seat. They chatted for some time, even after the band took the stage in the
next room. He felt at ease with Celeste, and conversation flowed without effort
between them.

He
learned she lived with her mother and daughter in a two-bedroom apartment in
Decatur. She told him she waited tables, but didn’t mention where she worked,
choosing to hedge over the information. When he inquired about her daughter’s
father, she would only say they were divorced.

He
couldn’t fathom why anyone would let Celeste go, but some men didn’t appreciate
the good women in their lives. His own father had suffered from the
grass-is-greener syndrome, destroying their family and eventually causing him
and his younger siblings to be parentless.

Roarke
leaned forward and took a sip of his drink of choice—rum and Coke—managing to
keep one eye trained on Celeste the entire time. When he sat back again, he
asked, “Do you have any pictures of Arianna?”

“Of
course.” She beamed with parental pride and pulled a digital picture keychain from
her purse. After clicking the slide show option, images of a cute, brown-faced
little girl at different ages glided across the small screen.