by Sarah Morgan
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE RESTAURANT WAS COZY, warm and decorated for Christmas. Candles flickered in the center of the tables and fairy lights were strung around the low beams.
As Harriet slid into her seat by the window, she felt oddly nervous. She wasn’t sure she was going to be able to eat anything. This pretend date was turning out to be more stressful than a real date, and the reason was that this was the date she really wanted to be on.
The only one that had ever mattered.
Ethan Black was the first man in a long time she’d been excited to spend time with.
She’d spent close to an hour making her hair smooth and applying makeup that was hopefully going to look as if she hadn’t tried too hard.
When he’d picked her up from her apartment she’d been wearing neutral lip gloss, but she’d chewed it off in the first five minutes and she didn’t want to risk reapplying it in case he saw her and misinterpreted the gesture. If he’d thought her cooking for him on the first night had been a romantic gesture, then presumably lip gloss would be tantamount to a proposal.
He sat opposite her, watching her expectantly, but she had absolutely no idea what he was expecting.
Hopefully not riveting conversation because her mind had emptied the moment she’d opened the door and seen him standing there. He filled her doorway with his broad shoulders and sexy smile and for a moment she’d been unable to catch her breath, as if she’d run up four flights of stairs carrying a load of shopping.
She still felt that way, and she had no idea what to say.
When she’d started internet dating she’d compiled a list of conversation topics. The weather, travel, books, life goals—she called them emergency silence fillers. So far she hadn’t needed to use them because the men she’d dated had been happy enough to fill silence to the point of overflowing until she’d been ready to beg them to stop talking.
Ethan was different.
The moment they were seated, he leaned forward. “Tonight, there is only one rule.”
There were rules? “Which is?”
“No escaping through the bathroom window.” Humor glinted in his eyes. “If something I say offends you, tell me. Don’t jump.”
“I promise.”
And just like that the tension was broken. Everything that followed was easy.
Ethan was calm, relaxed and entertaining. His idea of conversation wasn’t to deliver a monologue, but to engage her on whatever topic he raised. He asked her opinion and listened to her answers, and before she knew it she was talking about everything under the sun, from subjects she’d struggled with at school, to how being a twin had been the best thing that could have happened to her. She told him about the time Fliss had beaten up Johnny Hill because he’d refused to stop bullying her about her stammer. She’d been suspended from school as a result, and still had a scar on her head to show for it. And she told him about her parents’ divorce, and how she wished it had happened years before it did, and how she’d thought Daniel would never get married and how thrilled she was that he’d met Molly, who was wonderful and knew everything about relationships (even though she’d avoided having one of her own until she’d met Daniel) and had even had a book published.
And all the time she talked she was aware of Ethan listening, adding the occasional comment or observation, making sure her water glass was filled and that she was enjoying the food.
They ate grilled shrimp and zucchini, followed by a delicious chicken dish, but she barely noticed the food because she was either talking or listening. And for Harriet, the night wasn’t about food. It was all about the man sitting across from her.
She told him about her summers in the Hamptons. About the puppy her grandmother had rescued when Harriet was nine, and how she’d taken care of it herself for two months. How she’d asked her mother if they could take the puppy home, but been told her father would never allow it. And she talked about more recent events, when she’d had to work hard to persuade Fliss to open up to her.
Ethan told her about growing up in a family of doctors. How people had knocked on the door on a Sunday when they were in trouble, how the phone never stopped ringing.
It was a totally different experience from her other dates when she hadn’t been remotely interested in the person sitting across from her. Then, all she’d thought about was getting away as fast as possible. This time all she could think about was that she didn’t want the evening to end.
She realized that far from not talking, she’d done nothing but talk and she clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed.
He gave her a searching look. “What’s wrong?”
What was wrong was that she didn’t want this date to be pretend. She wanted it to be real. She wanted to be sitting across from him, hearing about his day and talking while she told him about hers.
And then she wanted to go home with him, rip all his clothes off, and do things Harriet Knight had never done in her life before.
She thought about the night she’d undressed him, the glimpse of his hard strong body. She couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“Harriet?”
“Sorry? What? Yes—” Please don’t let her have said any of that out loud. “What did you say?”
“I asked what was wrong.”
She’d got her fantasy mixed up with reality, that was what was wrong. “I realized I’ve been doing that thing I hate. Talking nonstop without coming up for air.”
“You weren’t talking nonstop. I talked too.”
“Not as much.” And she was mortified. He’d probably been thinking all the things she’d been thinking when she sat across from those men who didn’t know when to be quiet. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Because I found it interesting. I find you interesting. I didn’t want to stop you.”
“It was a monologue.” She knew her cheeks were pink. This was why she didn’t use blush. Combined with her own natural tendency to color up at the slightest hint of an awkward situation, she’d end up looking like a clown.
“It was not a monologue, but it did give me an insight into who you are. I feel I know you a little better now, which is good.”
“A little better? I gave you my whole life history. You know everything there is to know. Apart from the fact I had appendicitis when I was eight.”
He smiled. “Good to have your medical history too. Any allergies?”
“You mean apart from online dating?”
Why was it good that he knew her better? Why? What was the point?
What happened next? If she really fumbled her way through it perhaps he’d decide she needed more practice and date her again. If she was clever about it, it could wind up being her longest relationship ever.
Dessert arrived, a whipped confection of cream and she stared at it, thinking that it was like her life right now, sweet and perfect. But you couldn’t live on dessert, could you? And she wasn’t going to have a date like this again.
The candlelight sent flickers of light across his face, highlighting his lean, handsome features and those blue eyes that saw far too much. There was a faint hint of amusement in the curve of his mouth. She wished all dates could be as easy and relaxed as this one. She wished every moment of her life could feel like this, as if she were on the verge of something exciting and incredible.
She was enjoying herself so much she never wanted the evening to end.
Her head was spinning and she knew it wasn’t just as a result of the wine she’d drunk. It was being with Ethan.
She wondered what he’d be like in bed.
Confident.
Skilled.
Her face flamed. “Debra adores you. She used to talk about you all the time when I went round there. Her brother, the doctor. She’s very proud. You’re lucky being part of such a close family.”
“You’re close to your sister and brother.”
“Yes, but right now—” She broke off, feeling disloyal talking about it. She adored Fliss and Daniel, but they didn’t seem to un
derstand that she didn’t need them to fix her life all the time. “They’re both super protective, and when I was younger I was grateful for that. But sometimes now it gets to be an issue. If I’m struggling with something, Fliss wants to fix it and Daniel wants to take out an immediate lawsuit. They don’t understand that if something needs fixing, I need to fix it for myself. And if it can’t be fixed, then I need to adjust the way I’m thinking to accept that.”
“Is this what Challenge Harriet is all about? Are you sending a message to your family?”
“No. Challenge Harriet is for me.” She finished her wine, wondering how much to say. “The thing is, in the last year both of them have fallen in love. I’m not sure Fliss ever fell out of love, but that’s another story. And because they’re in love, they feel guilty. They feel that they’re excluding me and the easiest way to fix that is by finding someone for me too. It would stop them worrying about me.”
He nodded. “So what you’re saying is that they’ve been pairing you up. Is that why you started internet dating?”
“Molly suggested it, but I’d already thought it was a good idea simply because it was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. Why are you laughing?”
“Because every other person I know avoids doing the last thing in the world they want to do. That’s why it’s called the last thing. And what you’re describing just seems to be the natural order of things. Siblings want you to be as happy as they are. Parents want grandchildren.”
Hers didn’t. Her mother had finally started living the life she wanted to live and was traveling all over the world. Her father had made it clear that he didn’t want his children in his life, so it seemed doubtful he’d want grandchildren. “But Debra has already given your parents grandchildren.”
“My point exactly.” He waved his spoon. “Apparently it’s different. She has fulfilled her duty, but I haven’t.”
“Don’t you want children?”
Oh God, she was talking about having children with a man she wasn’t even dating.
Nice one, Harriet.
She may not know much about what constituted great conversation during a date but she was pretty confident this wasn’t it.
“Forget I said that.” She put her glass down. “How are you feeling? You’ve fully recovered?”
“You already asked me that. And why are we supposed to forget what you said?”
“Because the subject isn’t exactly suitable for two people on a pretend date.”
He paused, his gaze fixed on hers. “Right. Pretend date.” Something in his tone made her look at him closely.
“If the objective was for you to help me find suitably neutral topics, I’ve failed dismally. I did warn you. I’m not good on dates.”
“But as you keep telling me, this isn’t a proper date.” Calm, he topped up her wineglass. “This is two friends having dinner and catching up on news. You were asking me about children, although that seems like a surprising question given that you’ve already seen how useless I was with a dog.”
“You weren’t useless. I think you were lovely with Madi. If you ignore that first day when you were tired and not expecting to find your home disrupted, you were very patient and tolerant about having a very lively dog in your apartment.”
“You always see the best in people.”
“Not always. In fact I don’t think I’m good with people at all. And sometimes I’m trying to see the best because I just don’t want to believe that people can be so unkind. But you only have to spend a couple of hours working in the animal shelter to know that humans aren’t all good.”
“Do they pay you to work there?”
“I volunteer. I don’t spend much time at the actual shelter. Not as much as I’d like because I’m mostly busy with the business. Often I just drop by when they have animals that need fostering.”
“So you take them and give them back. That surprises me.”
Clearly he didn’t know her very well. “I would never refuse a vulnerable animal a home if I was able to provide it.”
“That isn’t the part that surprises me. The part that surprises me is that you’d give them back.”
“I can’t keep them all.”
“But you would if you could. And I bet you hate it.” His voice was soft. “I bet you really hate giving them back.”
“Yes. And I’ve never had a pet of my own because between the dog walking and the fostering it’s just too complicated, but now I’m starting to think I really want that.” It was the first time she’d mentioned it to anyone. It probably should have felt strange that Ethan was the first person she’d mentioned it to, but it didn’t. “I want a dog that’s mine, that I don’t hand back when I’ve walked him for an hour, or when I’ve fed him by hand and he’s old enough to go to his forever home.”
“So are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know. I only just started thinking about it, but yes. I think I will. I want to. I need to work out how I’d handle it. What compromises I’d need to make.”
“Nowhere near as many compromises as you’d need to make if you were living with someone. Speaking of which, why does Fliss think I’d be perfect for you?”
She almost dropped her spoon. “Excuse me?”
“I overheard your sister asking if I’d had my hands all over you.”
“You heard that? Oh that’s bad.” Dying inside, Harriet covered her face with her hands. “Get me out of here. Dinner is over. So is my dignity.” She heard his soft laugh and slowly let her hands drop. “You’re laughing at me? That’s cruel. Now I finally believe you’re heartless.”
“I’m not laughing at you.”
“No? Because it seemed that way from where I’m sitting.”
“I assumed you knew I’d heard that. You were very flustered.”
“I thought you might have overheard, but I was hoping you were too delirious to remember. And then you never mentioned it again.”
“You were taking care of me. I was afraid that if I mentioned it you might abandon me in my hour of need.”
Harriet poked at her food, keeping her eyes on her plate. If she’d ever had a more embarrassing moment, she couldn’t remember it. “I wouldn’t have abandoned you.”
There was a pause. “No,” he said slowly. “You wouldn’t do that. That’s not the kind of person you are.”
She pushed her plate away. “Okay, this is awkward.”
“How is it awkward?”
“Because now I know you overheard my sister’s ridiculous suggestions I have absolutely no clue what to say to you.”
“We laugh about it. We share sympathetic notes about siblings who interfere. Debra does it to me all the time.”
She risked a glance at him. “She does?”
“Yes. It’s a shocker. I’ve lost count of the number of women she’s tried to fix me up with. Ethan,” he said, in a perfect imitation of his sister’s accent, “I’ve found a girl who would be perfect for you.”
Harriet laughed. “That’s it. That’s what my sister does. How do you handle it?”
“Sometimes I’ll play along with it for the duration of the phone call because I love my sister. If it happens too often, I’m rude.”
“Does that work?”
“Nothing works for long. Sometimes I end the call. If I’m desperate, I pretend I have to go save a life. Don’t ever tell her that or I won’t examine your ankle next time you leap out of a window.”
“So who was the last woman she wanted to fix you up with?”
There was a pause. “You.”
Harriet stared at him, stunned. “She—what? Oh, that’s awful. Now I’m even more embarrassed.”
“Why is it awful? She thinks you’re the perfect person to cure me of my wicked bachelor ways and heal my supposedly bruised heart. It’s one hell of a brief for any woman, even one who likes a challenge.”
“Is your heart bruised?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I haven’t been able to find it i
n a while.”
She wondered how he could possibly think he didn’t have a heart when she saw evidence of his kindness and caring all the time.
“That’s why she wanted me to come and walk Madi?” A horrible thought occurred to her. “Karen really did have an accident? The whole thing wasn’t an elaborate setup?”
“It wasn’t a setup. My sister is an opportunist, not a sadist. And she’s an excellent mother.”
“So did she leave you alone when you told her you weren’t interested?”
He finished his wine and put the glass down slowly. “Who said I wasn’t interested?”
Her heart suddenly doubled its rhythm and her limbs felt as if they’d been turned to liquid. “You. You said you weren’t interested in women.”
“That’s not what I said. I said I wasn’t interested in marrying a second time. Not quite the same thing. I’m not a monk, Harriet.” He sounded amused. “I have relationships. Just not the kind that end in marriage. And that’s the kind you’re hoping for.”
Right now she was willing to take any kind if he featured in the starring role.
She wanted to ask if he’d be interested in a relationship if all she wanted was wild, passionate sex.
Was that a bit ambitious? Did she even know how to have wild, passionate sex?
She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to relax and let go enough to ever find out.
Except that with him, she thought she might. He was capable and kind, strong and sure, and she found him sexier than any man she’d ever met. Being with him made her feel something she’d never felt before, and she liked it. He made her feel interesting, feminine, fun. He made her feel alive.
His gaze met hers and she felt a streak of longing, a burst of blind lust that obliterated all other thoughts and feelings. All the sounds around them faded to nothing. There was just him, and the way he made her feel. She realized she’d underestimated the power of sexual attraction. Or maybe she’d just never felt it before. Not like this. This shivery, delicious thrill. The stomach-knotting sense of anticipation that turned need into desperation.
One thing was sure—after tonight, it was going to be even harder to go on a bad date because now she knew what a good one looked like.