“Cheers, lass,” he said, winking again when she blushed. He pushed her Glenallachie toward her, and she picked it up tentatively.
“I’ve never been a big shot taker,” she said.
“Chase it with the ale.”
She rolled her eyes. “And then you’ll be carrying me home.”
“Would that be so bad?” Lord, why was he teasing her? Leading them both on?
Instead of replying, she picked up the shot and touched it to her lips, then held it away. “Smells strong.”
Aaron chuckled.
“Down the hatch.” He tipped his back, feeling the familiar burn as the whisky made its way down his throat.
“You make it look easy.” She closed her eyes and drained the glass, shivering as she went.
Her pink tongue dashed out, licking her lip as she hissed a breath, and Aaron couldn’t control his urge to kiss her any longer. This kiss had been in the making since the moment he walked into her café and saw her leaning over the counter. Touching a finger to her chin, he turned her to face him. Their eyes locked for a second, both of them silently questioning whether or not they should continue. Yes. Yes, they should.
D
ipping his head low, Aaron caught her lips with his briefly, before pulling back an inch. It was quick, a delicious tease, and he didn’t have the willpower to keep himself from having more. He breathed in Darla’s quick exhale as he captured her lips again. He sighed as his mouth melded with her warmth, knowing this was wrong, but also definitely right. Whisky made her taste spicy, exotic, heavenly. He kept the kiss an indulgent, gentle exploration when what he wanted more than anything was to dive deep and see if falling off the cliff and into her oblivion was worth the risk.
God, he thought it might be. He threaded a hand through her soft hair, cradling her, massaging back and forth with his thumb
against her cheek. Darla sighed, her hand resting lightly on his chest. She, too, seemed to be holding back. And then, slowly, she slid it upward, burning a path with every inch she passed, until she clutched at his collar, and sank into him. Passion ignited. He’d never felt such a burning desire to kiss someone before, to taste them, consume them.
He slanted his head, deepening their kiss with a swipe o
f his tongue over her lower lip, an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. Darla made a murmuring sound in her throat, opening her mouth, her tongue sliding over his and he was lost. Lost in her scent, her taste. Lost in the way she clutched to him, and the gentle sway of their bodies as they moved closer. Mesmerized by the way this kiss seemed to trump out all others.
Lost, because he should have been mourning another.
Lost because he seemed to have found what he’d been looking for his entire life, right here in his arms.
Chapter Five
T
he sound of Darla’s phone vibrating from somewhere in her bedroom woke her from a deep sleep. Yesterday, had been amazing…
She crawled from bed, looking for where her phone hid, finding it inside one of
the heels she’d worn the night before. It was a text. From Aaron.
When can I see you again?
After dinner, he’d had a cab drive them home, where he kissed her once more—another heart-pounding, oh-my-fucking-God kiss that left her weak-kneed and addle-brained. She’d wanted to invite him up. Wanted more than anything to kiss him, make love to him, until the sun came up, but knowing instinctively that it was too soon, probably for the both of them. There had been that moment of hesitation before their first kiss. A second of thinking, before they both dove in.
She missed him already.
Tonight,
she typed back.
Café closes at 8.
Another text dinged in.
How was your date?
It was Gabrielle, her bestie since college. Too bad they lived so far
apart, she hadn’t seen her in a couple months. Gabs lived in Maryland and ran a bistro at her hottie fiancé, Holden’s winery. Their happiness was like a fairytale come true. Dare she say she felt like she was living something similar?
A dream,
she typed back.
Gabs:
Sarcasm?
Darla shook her head.
Not a drop. He was amazing, awesome. It’s gotta be too good to be true. We had fun. Laughed. He kissed me and it was…fucking incredible.
Gabs:
A lot of times good things actually happen. Being able to laugh and have fun—and have freaking awesome kisses—this could be the real thing.
Darla laughed.
I don’t want to get my hopes up.
Gabs:
I have a feeling this guy is for real. I’ll keep my hopes up for you.
Aaron’s reply buzzed.
Can’t wait to see you. Dress warm.
A shiver trilled up her spine. Darla texted Gabs about her date for the night and then ran to get in the shower. She might just give every diner a free cup of coffee this morning.
***
A knock at
the door startled Darla from putting on her lip gloss. She quickly swiped a dab on her lip and ran toward the door, praying one of her neighbors wasn’t in need of anything, not that she didn’t want to be neighborly, but Aaron would be there any minute, buzzing her to let him up.
She flung open the door, surprised to see him there with a bouquet of red and white roses. His killer smile had her feeling breathless.
“Aaron,” she said, her voice all breathy.
“Surprise.”
Dressed in fitted, stylish jeans, a V-neck gray sweater and his thick wool jacket, he did a mock bow and handed her the bouquet. “One of your neighbors took pity on me and let me up.”
“These are beautiful.”
His gaze roved over her, making every inch of her tingle. “And so are you.”
She smiled, glad she picked
out her tight black pants, and a low-cut red cable-knit sweater she’d bought from Victoria’s Secret, along with a sexy pair of red lacy thongs and matching bra. “Thank you. Come in, I’ll be ready in just a second.” She backed out of the doorway, and Aaron advanced. The way he moved, so lithe and sensual made her want to ask if he’d rather order out, and eat off each other. Before the words could escape on their own, she marched back to her kitchen to fill a vase with water.
“Great apartment,” he called. “You have a decent view.”
She laughed, setting the flowers on her table. “Not a view of a brick wall.”
“Lucky you got one of the
street below.”
“I had to stalk the realtor.”
“Glad you didn’t get arrested.” He turned back to her, his gaze making her belly flutter.
“Me, too,” she said.
A lame response if there ever was one, but when she looked at him, she got all tongue-tied. “Let me get my coat.” She opened the closet and pulled out her full-length, black down jacket.
“Let me,” he said, coming up behind her and taking the coat. He held it out for her as she tucked in her arms and then in a move, that was both sensual and necessary, he pulled her hair from
where it had been captured inside her jacket. “You have such thick, soft hair. Like spun silk.”
Darla turned around, noticing how close they were. Her face heated along with the rest of her. “Thank you.”
He stared at her a moment longer, and she wondered if he was going to kiss her, and if he did, she was going to suggest they stay in for the night—because dammit, she couldn’t get the thought of his hot kiss and how good it was out of her mind. If the touch of his lips on hers was so good, what would it be like when their bodies slid naked against one another?
Hot.
Ridiculously hot.
Darla’s
body reacted immediately, nipples hardening, and thighs clenching tight against the invading quiver of her sex. Yeah, it had been a long time since she’d gotten laid, but more importantly, sex-on-a-stick stood not a foot away, flaunting his Highlander hotness.
Aaron broke the heated tension by looking away and grabbing onto the door handle. “Your evening awaits, my lady.”
Outside snow fell in tranquil flakes, sparkling in the lights of the city and those strung up with holiday cheer around nearly every shop and apartment door. They were spared a chill breeze, so though it was cold enough to snow, it wasn’t freezing enough to make anyone run for cover. The streets were jammed with taxis and personal vehicles. A few dared ride bikes, and even more people walked.
Her
black wool-knit boots crunched on salt crystals the shop owners and her building super tossed down to keep the snow from melting and creating ice.
Aaron led her toward a black sedan. “So, I could have used a taxi, but for tonight I asked the production company driver to do me a favor.”
“Riding in style.” At least she knew she wouldn’t be sitting on a seat where someone may have vomited the night before. Well, less likely anyway.
The driver jumped out, running around the back and opening the door for her. He nodded his head when she thanked him. Darla slid over the smooth leather. The car still smelled new, but as soon as Aaron sat beside her, the only thing she was aware
of was his intoxicating cologne, the heat of his body, her hardened nipples and the clenching of her thighs. His presence overwhelmed her, made her forget how to breathe.
They zipped in and out of traffic until Central Park came into view.
“A walk in the park after sunset? You like to live on the dangerous side,” she teased.
“Actually… something cliché.”
Aaron winked.
Darla arched a brow as the car pulled up beside a horse-drawn carriage
, decorated for the holidays with festive bells and ribbons. Even the white horse was decked out with a Santa hat and red and green plaid scarf. “You didn’t.” She chewed her lip to keep from laughing.
Aaron chuckled.
“I did. I’ve always wanted to ride one, but every time I came home from Scotland to visit my dad, this was the last thing he wanted to do. I couldn’t very well ride it by myself. Wait here.” He climbed out of the car and she watched him jog around the back before opening her door. “Right this way, beautiful.”
Oh, she could have melted like the snow as it landed on her cheeks.
“Thank you for agreeing to go out on a date with me, so I could make my cliché dream come true.” He laughed.
Darla touched his arm, feeling the hardened muscle beneath the layers of
the red gloves he’d given her and his wool jacket. “I’m honored to share it with you.”
And she meant it. It might have been cliché, but it was endearing, and wonderful to know she was doing something
with him he’d never done before. Whenever he thought about carriage rides in the city, he would remember this moment, and so would she.
Aaron helped her up into the carriage. He climbed in beside her and tucked a thick blanket around both of their legs. It seemed without a second thought he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her close. “No way
we’re going to be cold.”
No way indeed.
Her body was so hot, she was liable to burst into flames at any moment. The carriage lurched forward, its bells jingling as it went north on Central Park West, turned onto West 7
th
and then onto West. They passed Strawberry Fields, both of them commenting on how they’d listened to endless hours of Beatles songs growing up and that whenever they heard one now it brought back nostalgic memories with a vengeance. Talking about music, Darla discovered that Aaron shared a love of early rock bands, just like she did.
The
y pulled into Columbia Circle in front of the Mandarin Oriental hotel.
“Dinner?” he asked.
“Asiate?” she asked, staring at the entrance to another posh dinner spot. Was it possible he’d planned for them to arrive here and he’d made reservations? “I don’t think they take walk-ins.”
“I made us a reservation.”
Wow. Did he think of everything? Darla had always wanted to eat there. They had a wall of wine thirteen hundred bottles wide. A sight any wine lover enjoyed seeing.
“I know it
’s...” He trailed off and all she could think about was how she’d talked about 48 being too swanky of a place.
Asiate was a high-class establishment, but this time, she was going to let him have his way. Aaron obviously wanted to treat her to something special. She smiled at him and hugged his arm. “It’s perfect. I’m starving.”
His lip quirked into a delicious grin that made her think of kissing him, and she almost did. If the carriage driver hadn’t plunked down the stairs for them to exit, she might have finished her partial ascent to his lips.
Aaron climbed from the carriage and lifted his hands up, wrapping them around her middle and lifting her down as though she weighed no more than a puppy.
He entwined his fingers with hers and led her inside.
They were seated at a cozy table by the window where they could look out over the twinkling lights of the city and the mysteriousness of the dimly-lit park.
“Was your carriage ride everything you ever dreamed it would be?” Darla asked, a teasing smile curling her lips.
“The ride was fantastic, but what made it really special was having you there,” he said. After the words left his lips, his eyes darkened, looking momentarily sad. He flicked his gaze out the window, but when he turned back to her, whatever that sadness had been disappeared.
Darla swallowed. What secrets did Aaron hide from her?
“It was amazing,” she replied, toying with her napkin in her lap. A waiter came by and told them about the menu, pouring them each a glass of spark
ling water. “Maybe this isn’t any of my business” —God she hated when conversations started that way, so why was she the one doing it?— “but you never did tell my why you moved back to New York.”
Aaron smiled at her, some of that sadness ebbing around the edges of his lip
s. She’d hit a soft spot with her question.
“I did tell you—personal reasons.” Before she had the chance to reply or feel like shoving her foot in her mouth, he continued. “I needed a fresh start. Things back in Scotland were... Well, I lost someone, and I needed a change of pace.”
Darla nodded. “I completely understand. I’m so sorry for your loss.” He didn’t expound on it, and she didn’t want to pry. This was only like their fifth date. They’d not made any declarations to each other, they hadn’t even slept together yet. Had he lost a girlfriend? His mother?
“I don’t want to talk about that.” He reached across the table and took her hands in his. “I want to talk about you. Have you always lived in the city?”
Darla nodded. “Yeah, I grew up here, though I went to college in Maryland and spent some time in France at a culinary school.”
“
I love France,” he said. “Chocolate éclairs and croissants.”
“You had me at chocolate.”
The waiter poured them each a pinot noir that Aaron chose. Darla picked up her glass and took a sip of the light, fragrant wine.
“Does
your pallet react when you eat out?” Aaron asked. “Do you find yourself critiquing the chef’s work as a chef yourself?”
Darla laughed. “At first, yes, now I just try to enjoy it—unless it’s really awful.
I can cook, but I make paninis and breakfast items everyday—which I love, don’t get me wrong! A good sandwich is my passion. But I always applaud more complicated dishes.”
The waiter returned with the first of their plates.
They enjoyed a three-course meal of sea scallops, Atlantic halibut and chocolate caramel tortes. Each course was accompanied by a different glass of wine that perfectly blended with the flavors of the food. By the end of the meal, Darla was sure they’d both have to crawl up the stairs to their apartments.
Aaron
settled the check and they took his car back to her place talking about all their favorite Christmas movies. They were both tied with
A Christmas Story
—the horrible leg lamp movie—and
Miracle on 34
th
Street
. When they pulled up in front of her building, this time Darla was determined to invite him up. And now she had a pretense to hide behind.