“Del!” she exclaimed.
“Shh.” He dipped his chin toward the baby. “You’ll wake up Delilah.”
“Put me down,” she whispered. “You don’t have to carry me. It’s only a scratch.”
“I don’t want you to cut your feet. Those lamp shards are all over the floor.” He tightened his hold on her as he maneuvered past the crib.
Maggie didn’t really want to argue. It would be dishonest to pretend she wasn’t enjoying this. His muscles were even more impressive up close and flexing.
He carried her through the living room to the corner that served as her kitchen and sat her down on the edge of the table. He went back to close the bedroom door, then flipped on the light and returned with the first aid kit she kept in her bathroom.
“It really isn’t that bad,” she said. She could see how minor the cut on her thumb was.
“Then it won’t take long to heal,” he said. Despite her objections, he proceeded to clean and disinfect the wound.
“You do that as if you’ve had experience in first aid,” she said, noticing the careful efficiency of his movements.
“I’ve had some in the course of my work,” he said.
“I wouldn’t have thought there would be much need for that in the electronics business.”
His hands stilled for a moment. “No, there wouldn’t be. I meant I learned this when I worked my parents’ farm.”
“Oh, right. I should have guessed that.”
He smoothed a bandage over the cut and released her hand, yet he didn’t move away. Under the harsh brightness of the overhead bulb, the intimate mood that had begun in the bedroom should have dissolved. Instead, Maggie found the added illumination only made Del’s body more appealing. She tried to think of something else to say. She felt the need for conversation to keep herself from…ogling him. Yes, that’s what she was doing. She had progressed past staring all the way to ogling.
He could have posed for some ancient Greek statue, or he could have served as the mold for those armored breastplates the Romans used. He was classic male perfection sculpted in taut flesh. Without thinking, she reached out to touch him with one finger.
His skin was hot and damp, silk over steel. A shiver of anticipation made her hand tremble. She wanted to place her lips where her finger was. She wanted to know how he tasted.
“Maggie,” he said, his voice rough.
She pulled back her hand and put her finger in her mouth. She tasted salt and a trace of something else that had to be pure Del. It was a unique, erotic flavor, like a whisper in the dark.
Del leaned closer and caught her wrist. Holding her gaze, he turned her hand around and bit gently on the finger she had just licked.
Pleasure skittered down her arm. “I bet you didn’t learn that on the farm,” she murmured.
His lips curved as he sucked her finger into his mouth.
The pleasure spread. She swung her foot forward so that she could rub her toes on his shin.
He released her finger with a pop and placed one palm on her hip.
Maggie smiled. “I guess we shouldn’t really be doing this, Del.”
“Probably not,” he agreed. He splayed his fingers. “But if I don’t touch you, I’ll definitely go mad. Damn, it’s been a long week.”
“It’s been long for me, too,” she said.
“I’ll stop anytime you say.”
Her breath hitched at the tingles that chased over her hip where his hand rested so possessively. “I know, Del. I trust you.”
Was it her imagination, or did a shadow flit across his face? She didn’t have time to check. He dipped his head and brushed a butterfly kiss over the hollow of her throat.
Maggie lifted her hands to his hair, sliding her fingers through the short, resilient strands. To her surprise, she caught the scent of the baby shampoo she and Delilah used. On another man, the scent might have been a turn-off, but on someone as unmistakably masculine as Del, it was curiously appealing.
Face it, Maggie told herself. Everything about him is appealing. She lifted her chin, enjoying the moist heat of his mouth at the opening of her nightgown. Oh, this was wonderful. Why had they deprived themselves of this pleasure for so long?
Del rubbed his nose up the side of her neck and nibbled at her ear.
Maggie sighed.
He pulled back to look at her, one eyebrow lifting in a wordless question.
“I can’t believe my ear can feel like that,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Lean over again and I’ll show you,” she replied, tugging his head down. She flicked the tip of her tongue over his earlobe, then nibbled and tasted until they both were out of breath. This time it was she who pulled back, not because she wanted to stop, but because she wanted more.
Del must have read the desire in her face. He braced his hands on the table on either side of her and brought his mouth down on hers.
Oh, yes, Maggie thought, parting her lips. This was what she wanted. Her memory hadn’t deceived her—it was as good as she remembered. Better. He was as controlled and gentle as the last time, his mouth coaxing hers in a sensual dance, an exploration as basic as time.
She moved her hands to his chest, her palms tracing the outline of his muscles. She could feel his heart racing with the same crazy rhythm as hers. What had she been so afraid of? she wondered dimly. She hadn’t wanted to rush into anything with Del, but she wasn’t rushing now, was she? She had restrained herself for a whole week.
Gradually, the pressure of his lips changed. It was no longer tentative or gentle. It wasn’t the kiss of a friend.
It was the kiss of a half-naked man in the middle of the night.
He stepped closer and splayed his fingers over the tops of her thighs. The firm warmth of his palms burned through her nightgown as if it weren’t there, and Maggie felt quick heat pool between her legs. It was exhilarating. With a throaty moan, she swayed into him, tilting her head to find the best fit for their mouths.
Del tightened his grip on her thighs and stepped between her knees. He eased her backward until she was reclining on the table. Fabric bunched as he pulled her nightgown upward and touched her bare skin.
Need, swift and sharp, sizzled through Maggie’s heart. Oh, it was glorious, this blossoming inside her. Being a mother was fulfilling, but her sexuality was a part of her, too. She wanted to see where this would lead, she wanted to let it continue to its conclusion….
But while her heart might be willing, her body wasn’t ready. The swelling heat between her legs turned to a stinging ache. Her breath hitched. She broke off the kiss and gulped in air. “Del…”
His face was hard as he leaned over her. His eyes were more golden than amber. There was no humor or friendship in his gaze, only acute desire.
She had never seen him like this before. He didn’t look chivalrous, he looked…dangerous. Ruthless. Like a gunslinger.
Oh, God. Did she really know him? Not what he did or where he went, but who he was, deep down inside? For the first time since she had met him, Maggie felt a tickle of unease.
His thumbs stroked boldly across the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs.
She put her hands over his to keep him from going higher. “Del, no.”
He was fighting for control. She could see it in the muscle that twitched in his cheek and the tendons that corded along his neck. Beneath her fingers, she felt a tremor go through his hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I can’t…I mean, I think it’s still too soon.”
Slowly, oh, so slowly, the passion that sharpened his features dimmed. He moved his hands aside, bracing them on the table to push himself upward. His chest heaved as he took several deep breaths before he straightened and took a step backward. Finally, he held out his hand to help Maggie sit up.
Maggie exhaled hard, feeling her uneasiness fade. She must have imagined the hard stranger. This was Del, her friend, the nicest guy in New York. She did know him.
<
br /> “Hell, Maggie,” he said finally. “I didn’t mean to go that far.”
“It’s okay, Del. Things happened kind of fast.”
“I apologize. I shouldn’t have touched you.”
She glanced at his arms. His muscles were tensed, standing out in ropy ridges from his shoulders to his wrists. She swallowed. “But I wanted you to, Del.”
“Ah, Maggie. You’re not making this easier.”
“Neither are you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Now I know what you’ve been hiding.”
He pulled back swiftly, his expression suddenly wary. “What makes you think I’m hiding something?”
“You could have warned me you had a body like a Greek statue.”
“Like a…”
“Only yours is a lot warmer than marble, that’s for sure.” She looked at his chest. “I’ve just had a baby, Del, but I’m not dead. You should have known this would happen if you paraded around in front of me half-naked.”
“I wasn’t parading around. This is how I sleep.”
“But you said you weren’t asleep.”
“I was working out.”
Maggie had a sudden image of Del’s body flexing, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat. She sighed and echoed the words he had said to her. “Ah, Del. You’re not making this easier.”
He gave a startled laugh, then lifted her hand to his lips. The long, strong fingers that had gripped her thighs so boldly were incredibly tender as he turned her hand over and placed a gentle kiss on her bandaged thumb.
Maggie relaxed. Yes, it must have been her imagination. How could she possibly have considered Del dangerous?
Wind gusted through the glass and brick canyons of Manhattan in a teasing foretaste of summer, carrying the smell of warm asphalt and the cacophony of car horns. Maggie slapped a hand on top of her head to hold down her hat as she stopped at the corner.
She had told Del she didn’t need a hat, but he had insisted that with the hot weather approaching and her fair complexion, she needed to protect herself from the sun. That was the reasoning he gave, anyway, but she knew there was more to it than that. He just didn’t want to admit he had given in to a spate of pure whimsy.
The hat was made of the softest brushed cotton in a white as pure as the top of a cloud. The brim was wide enough to keep the sun off her nose, yet curled up at the edge to make a flattering frame for her face. A wide satin ribbon embroidered with violet and pink flowers circled the crown and trailed merrily down the back of her neck.
Yet what made it most appealing of all was the fact that a miniature version graced Delilah’s head.
Del had brought her and Delilah downtown to do some shopping today, ostensibly to replace the lamp she had broken yesterday, but somehow they had gotten sidetracked into F.A.O. Schwartz. Among the giant stuffed animals and the crowds of dolls, he had spotted the mother-daughter hats before she did.
He might have the body of a Greek statue or a Roman warrior, she thought, but at heart he was a genuine marshmallow. He enjoyed spoiling his honorary niece as much as he spoiled his niece’s mother. Smiling, Maggie peeked around the ruffled awning of the stroller to check on Delilah.
“How is she doing?” Del asked.
“Adorable, as always.”
“And that’s an objective opinion.”
“Of course.”
Del looked carefully up and down the street, then pushed the stroller forward as the light changed to green. “She must be getting hungry by now.”
“I’m sure she’ll make her wishes known any minute. Laszlo won’t mind if I use the back room of the diner. It’ll give me a chance to visit with Joanne.”
“I could take you home, if you like.”
He had shown up with a car today. He had explained it belonged to the company he worked for and that they wouldn’t object if he borrowed it now and then. No wonder he was so dedicated to his job—his company certainly didn’t skimp on the fringe benefits they gave their employees. “Thanks, but it would be silly not to drop in since we’re in the neighborhood.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
Was it only her imagination, or had he grown tenser the closer they had gotten to the diner? Or was the tension because they were getting closer to his office? Still hanging onto her hat, she tipped her head to look at the tall buildings that surrounded them. “Which one of these do you work in, Del?” she asked impulsively.
“You can’t see it from here. It’s on the next block. Watch out for the curb,” he said, grabbing her elbow.
“What? Oh!” Her toe hit the edge of the curb, and she stumbled onto the sidewalk. “Oops.”
Still hanging onto the stroller with one hand, he clamped his other arm around her waist to steady her. She flattened her palm on his chest and looked up, prepared to thank him.
But his sudden proximity drove all thought out of her head. Now that she knew the spectacular build his nondescript polo shirt concealed, all she could think about was getting her hands on him again. Before she remembered what she had asked him, they arrived at the diner.
As soon as they got through the door, they were greeted by a blast of Gershwin. The source of the noise was a boom box that had been wedged between the cash register and the pie keeper. A young man with baggy pants and a build like Fred Astaire, his upturned hand balancing a trio of plates heaped with French fries, tap-danced his way across the floor. Maggie watched, spellbound, as he deposited the plates with a flourish and took a bow.
Laughing, she joined in the burst of applause from the customers. “He’s great,” she said to Del.
“Yeah.” He looked around the interior of the diner, then half-turned to leave. “The noise is going to upset Delilah. We shouldn’t stay.”
“She’s okay. She loves music. Besides, they’ve just turned it down,” she said, nodding toward the counter.
Joanne adjusted the volume and waved happily at Maggie as she hurried forward to greet them. “Hey, Mags, I love the hat. And the little sweetums has one, too.”
“Thanks. Del got them.”
Joanne grinned at Del. “Oh, that’s too cute. The flowers in the band even match Maggie’s outfit.”
She was right, Maggie thought. The colors in the hat matched the dusty rose tunic and dark violet leggings she had put on that morning. Yet another example of how…sweet Del was.
He shrugged. “The hats are practical. They’ll keep the sun off.”
“What do you think of our new waiter?” Joanne asked.
“He’s wonderful,” Maggie said. “But what happened to Edith?”
“Edith the Perfect got fired when Laszlo caught her substituting tofu for the beef in his hamburgers. Luckily, José over there witnessed the whole thing and applied for the job on the spot.” Joanne lowered her voice. “José’s not really a waiter, you know. He’s a Broadway dancer. This is his day job until he gets his big break.”
“How long has he been here?”
“It’s a new record. Eight days and counting, and Laszlo only came close to firing him once.”
“Why?”
“José used to be in the chorus of Cats,” Joanne explained. “He got into his role a bit too deeply and pounced on the counter on all fours.”
Maggie bit back a snort.
“He was great,” Joanne continued, “but he spilled coffee all over a couple of cops. Laszlo had to promise them free doughnuts for a month to keep them from giving him a ticket.”
“No one ever arrested me when I spilled things.”
“Not for spilling coffee, for providing entertainment without a license.”
“Oh, my,” Maggie said, laughing.
“Laszlo puts up with it because he knows José’s dancing is bringing in more customers than ever.”
“I can see that,” Del said. “We’d better come back another time, Maggie. The place looks full.”
“No, there’s a spot in the far corner,” Joanne said.
Maggie
thanked her and started forward when she spotted a familiar face. Bill Grimes was sitting at a table by the window, his balding head gleaming in the sunlight. “Isn’t that your friend over there?” she asked.
Del swallowed a resigned sigh and nodded a greeting to Bill. Judging by the smirk on his partner’s face, Bill was fully aware that Del had already spotted him and had attempted to steer Maggie out of the diner.
Before he could move forward, though, Delilah let out an insistent wail. Del had enough experience with her to realize it was a cry of hunger. He made another offer to drive Maggie home, but she declined. Linking her arm with Joanne’s, she maneuvered the stroller between the tables toward the privacy of the diner’s back room.
As soon as Maggie and Delilah disappeared through the swinging door, Del went over to join his colleague.
“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Bill said, gesturing with a forkful of apple pie. “She followed you in here, right?”
“The joke’s getting old, Bill,” Del muttered. He stacked the shopping bags he was carrying on a chair beside him. “What are you doing here?”
“Eating pie and watching the waiter’s free show,” Bill answered. “That music also serves as great interference to casual eavesdropping. What are you doing here?”
“We were shopping.”
“You’re getting quite domesticated, aren’t you?”
“I’m just helping Maggie out,” Del said.
“May is rapidly going past. If you want a June wedding, you’d better get busy.”
Somehow, Del wasn’t in the mood for more of his partner’s ribbing. “That joke’s getting old, too, Bill. You know anything permanent between me and Maggie isn’t going to happen.”
Bill set down his fork. “You have feelings for her,” he stated.
“She’s a remarkable woman,” Del said. “But she knows nothing about me. There are too many good reasons to limit our relationship to friendship.”
“Ah, do you know what Lord Byron said about friendship?”
“Bill…”
“‘Friendship is Love without his wings!’”
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