Restore My Heart (25 page)

“What makes you think that?”

Sally harrumphed. “History.”

Joe leaned closer, to be heard above the band. “I wish you’d give me a history lesson.”

“No big deal. I found out Dad paid Corky The Jerk Martin a hundred bucks to take me to my Senior Prom. I overheard Corky The Jerk bragging about it with his pals. He danced with every other girl at the prom.”

“Corky The Jerk didn’t dance with you?”

Sally closed her eyes. “It was right after the accident. I was on crutches.”

Suppressing his curiosity about
the accident
, Joe slid an arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. “Your father’s plan was to help, not hurt you. He couldn’t know this Corky guy would be indiscreet.”

“Indiscreet. That’s putting it mildly.”

“Where is Corky The Jerk these days? I’ll punch out the bastard.”

Sally laughed. “You’ve given me a different slant on the experience. The way you put it, I don’t feel quite so humiliated.”

“Adolescence is rough. Put that time in your life behind you. Forgive your father.”

Sally jerked away. “Forgive my father? There’s nothing to forgive. It’s not his fault I couldn’t get a date to the prom. I only wish—”

“You only wish
what?”

Sally shook her head. “Never mind. I didn’t mean to get all gushy.”

Joe noted the band’s change in tempo. “Hey, this is a nice, slow song. Let’s dance.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a try. But you’ll have to do all of the work.”

Sally concentrated on walking normally as she followed Joe to the dance floor. He assumed the traditional dance position—nothing like Monette’s description —and clamped one arm firmly around Sally’s waist, plastering their bodies together. His arm supporting most of her weight, he waltzed her around the dance floor. Sally struggled to keep up until she found her pace.

“You all right?” he murmured in her ear.

“Don’t talk. I’m concentrating.”

Joe chuckled, turning with her to revolve around the floor with the other dancers. Sally amazed herself. With Joe’s help, she was dancing. Really dancing! Cinderella at the ball.

Paying close attention to her steps took far more effort than it should have. But Joe’s electric touch against her skin triggered a flash of awareness that derailed her concentration. The barriers of clothing did little to throttle the effect of their dancing. Like a well-tuned engine, their bodies slid and moved against each other in a potent rhythm.

The waltz ending, the band segued into another slow song. Without a pause, Joe clung to Sally and danced. He seemed to know how to carry the weight for Sally’s weak leg, securing her in his strong arms. She closed her eyes, nuzzling Joe’s neck, letting herself drift with the music. His woodsy cologne filling her senses and his warm breath caressing her cheek, Joe transformed Sally into a boneless, dancing rag doll.

“Thank you,” she said a few minutes later, catching her breath as Joe led her back to their table.

After pulling out Sally’s chair, Joe bowed. “The pleasure was mine.”

“You two looked very graceful together.” Fia smiled as Sally settled in her chair.

“Thanks to your brother. He made me look good.”

“It’s the women who make us men look good. Right, Brendan?” Joe smiled and winked at Sally.

“That’s what they say.”

The band broke into a Latin number. Fia smiled at Brendan. “Want me to make you look good doing the rumba?”

Rising, Brendan held Fia’s chair. “Lead the way.”

“I think we’ll wait for another one of those slow, seductive tunes.” Joe covered Sally’s hand and smiled.

Sally returned his smile, unsure of what she should say. He was flirting with her again. She doubted she’d ever feel comfortable with it. As much as she’d love to be more to Joe than a friend, she couldn’t handle it. The proverbial fish out of water.

Still, she had promised herself this night. She’d go with the flow, not analyze it. Turning her attention to the dance floor, she watched Fia and Brendan rumba.

Later, Sally managed one more slow dance before her bad leg threatened a muscle spasm. “I’m sorry. I think I’d better stay off my feet now.”

Joe’s smile crumbled. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to overdo it.”

“My fault. I was just having so much fun, you know?” She smiled at him, unable to hide her high spirits. And more than her leg muscles had been taxed. She didn’t know how much more her aroused body could stand being in Joe’s embrace. “Dancing. It’s not something I’ve been able to do, Joe. Thank you.”

“You look tired. You look beautiful, but tired.”

“I am tired, a little.” Her languor had more to do with arousal than fatigue.

“It’s after midnight. Want me to pick up our pictures and take you home?”

Excitement hummed through Sally’s veins. She wanted him to take her home with
him
. Knowing she’d set herself up for an even bigger heartache, she still wanted his hands on her. His mouth. She wanted, just once in her life, to have a man make love to her.

No. Not a man.
Joe
. It seemed she’d been waiting for only him to awaken the long-dormant desires locked inside her disfigured body.

Not disfigured. Joe made her feel normal. Sure, she wasn’t a woman he could spend his life with. But she could be the woman he could spend this night with. She wasn’t so inexperienced that she hadn’t noticed his obvious arousal when they’d slow danced. He’d take what she offered. And Sally intended to offer.

Heady with her bold resolve, she locked her gaze with Joe’s. “Take me home with you.”

Joe took both Sally’s hands in his. “What are you saying?”

“Exactly what you think I’m saying.” Her cocoa eyes unflinching, she held his gaze.

Hadn’t he been wanting this all evening? Sally had to know. Their bodies pressed against each other as they moved intimately in rhythm had been more than his libido could take. Expecting his hormones to remain neutral had been asking too much. Yes, he’d been coming on to Sally, whether he’d intended to or not.

With her sultry eyes offering him what any healthy male would want, Joe was powerless to resist. His gaze dropped to those lips, slightly parted, plump and pink. The need to press his mouth to hers became an obsession. He had to get her out of here, had to devour that sexy mouth.

“Come on.” The hoarseness in his voice betrayed his aroused condition.

Springing from the chair, Sally’s fatigue seemed to have vanished. She kept up with him as he helped her outside, then to the parking garage to wait for his car. He barely remembered tipping the valet in his haste to leave. He drove a block, then pulled over beneath the expressway ramp. River Road was deserted except for the passengers who partied aboard the Belle of Louisville, the sternwheeler docked nearby on the Ohio River. Joe set the emergency flashers, unsnapped his seatbelt, and flung himself at Sally. Pulling her into his arms, he released her seatbelt.

His lips were on hers, his tongue invaded her mouth, his breathing nearly stopped as he kissed her. And kissed her. She gave as good as he, stroking his neck, his hair, tugging him ever closer. Forgetting the running motor, the beep of the flashers, he lost himself in the tender flesh behind her ear, along her neck, then lower.

Murmuring her name, he brought his hands up either side of her ribs, his thumbs moving closer and closer to her nipples. His thumbs reached their destination. As he rubbed them into hard pebbles, he was rewarded by Sally’s soft cries of pleasure.

“Joe, please,” she whimpered.

What was he doing? He quickly broke away, pushing himself behind the wheel. “God, Sally, I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“S-sorry?”

Ignoring the ache in his groin, Joe forced his attention to driving. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was rough.”

“I’m not made of porcelain. And you didn’t hurt me. I was begging you to—to—” She broke off, as if emerging from a daze. “Jeez, I guess I forgot where we were.”

“Me, too.”

“I hope you intend to finish what you started.” She clicked her seatbelt buckle, reminding him he needed his fastened, too.

“Nothing would please me more, Sally, but I don’t want you to have regrets.”

“I’m a consenting adult. I won’t whine and cry in the morning. It won’t spoil our friendship.”

Sally wasn’t a game-player. Her straight shooting had appealed to him from the start. And she thought she meant what she was saying. But a woman like Sally deserved more than a fling, which was all Joe could offer. Much as he wanted her—which was more than he’d ever wanted any woman—he couldn’t hurt her.

He also knew he walked a tight rope between taking advantage of her and rejecting her. Sally’s fragile ego wouldn’t take rejection well. He’d have to strike a balance. And he’d need to exercise superhuman control over the powerful longing he had for her. He couldn’t take her, no matter how much he yearned to.

Sally winced when Joe flicked on the light in his room in the Desalvo’s stable. “Can we please keep the lights off?”

Joe reached for the wall switch. “Okay, Sally, but I don’t want us in total darkness.”

“Please?”

“No.” He moved closer. Reaching for her hands, he pulled her against him. “I want to see you. You’re beautiful.”

“I’m—thanks.” She turned away before she blurted out the truth. “I’m afraid.”

“We don’t have to rush this, you know. I meant what I said. I don’t want you having regrets.”

“I’ll be fine if you leave off the lights.” She swallowed as he turned her face toward his with a light touch of his finger. “It’s— since the accident, I’ve— what I’m trying to say is—”

“I’m the first man you’ve been with?”

“Well, yes—since the accident.” She said, relieved he couldn’t see the red heat crawling up her neck and ears. He had to know she wasn’t experienced or sophisticated like the other women he’d bedded. Still, she wanted desperately to be good for him, to please him.

“I wish you’d tell me about the accident.”

“Why?”
Please, Joe, not now
.

“I want to be intimate with you, Sally, not just have sex. That’s not what I’m about.”

“Don’t make it more than it is.”

“Now you’re making me angry. You aren’t one to pretend. Don’t start now.” He pulled her down beside him on the bed, still holding her hand. “You deserve more than a fling. And I can’t offer you more.”

“I didn’t ask you for more. As I said, I’m a consenting adult.”

“I hear you. So I mean nothing more to you than a roll in the sack?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Pulling her hand free, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What more do you want from me, Joe?”

“Trust.”

“What does that mean?”

“Trust me enough to tell me about the accident, about why you and your father have such a strained relationship when it’s obvious you’re both hurting.”

“Hurting? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s right, I don’t. I’m asking you to open up to me. Trust me.”

“How’d we get from Sally-gets-laid to Sally Jesse Raphael?”

Even to her own ears, the words sounded bitter. Coarse. No wonder Joe recoiled.

“Come on.” He stood, dug into his tuxedo pocket, jingling keys and change. His soft tone didn’t hide the hurt. “I’ll take you home.”

Remorse filled her. Joe had been the perfect gentleman tonight. He’d given her a storybook evening, complete with flowers, dinner, and a queen and knights. He’d given her
dancing
, no small physical feat for him. He didn’t deserve for her to shut him out.

“Wait.”

He sighed into the darkness. “Yes?”

“I’ll make you a deal. If you’ll leave the lights out, I’ll tell you about the accident.”

“Deal.” He slipped out of his shoes, then tossed his jacket and cummerbund across a chair. “But let’s get comfortable.”

Sally toed off her slippers and joined him on the bed. Side by side, they pressed their backs against the headboard.

“I don’t know where to begin.”

Joe enveloped her hand in his, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Vic said you worked in the pits when you were still in high school. Start there.”

“Dad and Uncle Sal built race cars and raced with some success. They had sponsors, a few wins, and had made it to the Busch circuit. Do you know NASCAR?”