Forever After (8 page)

His eyes caught hers and she forgot about the forkful of the Greek entree.  Until he came forward slowly.  His lips surrounded the fork and he slid the eggplant off, keeping his gaze on Darcy's, transmitting a sensual message.

When she brought her fork back to her plate, her skin prickled.  She could almost feel his lips on her.  He had the most sensual mouth she'd even seen and the most fascinating eyes and...  Whoa.  This is ONE DATE you're enjoying, remember?

"This is not how I envisioned us having dinner."  There was disappointment in his voice, as if he'd somehow let her down.

"What did you envision?"

"A quiet intimate dinner for two.  Lobster."

"Do I look like a lobster type of person?"

He closed one eye and narrowed the other as he looked her over.  "Well...maybe more like cordon bleu."

She laughed.  "And what about you?  What kind of person are you?"

He leaned back and straightened his shoulders.  "Analyzing me?"

"No."

He was quiet for a moment, then finally said, "I have trouble talking about myself."

"I've noticed."

His mouth twisted wryly.  "One minute I think you're naive, the next I know better.  You constantly surprise me."

"You turn the tables too easily.  You just did it again."

"It's the lawyer in me."

"Seth, I want to know more about you."

Emotions crossed Seth's face like clouds passing over the sun.  Finally, he spoke.  "My parents were divorced when I was seven.  I lived in Williamsport until I was fifteen, then I moved to Erie with my father."

"Is your dad a lawyer?"

"No.  He's a bank president."

"Do you see him often?"

"Every few months.  We have a cabin in the Poconos we use for hunting."

"You hunt deer?"

Seth smiled.  "That's what we say we're doing.  We don't take it very seriously.  Neither of us has bagged one in years.  We get our pleasure from hiking, stalking, being outdoors.  Are you one of those people who doesn't believe in killing wildlife?"

Darcy pushed a thick wave of hair away from her cheek.  "Logically, I know it's necessary for the balance of nature.  But when I see a deerhead mounted on a wall as a trophy...  It makes me angry.  Where's the sport?  A helpless creature can't out-maneuver or fight back.  What's the point?"

Seth took her seriously and didn't discount her feelings as a woman's squeamishness.  "There's something compelling about being able to go back in time.  I think that's what we do.  Living in cabins without twentieth century creature comforts, cooking food over a wood stove or a fire, coming face to face with nature as our ancestors did.  It's a means of escaping--escaping from noise, modern confusion, too many conveniences.  Life is simple.  You get up with the first light, you find your way back as it gets dark.  You follow a natural time clock, not one that's man-made.  And you find peace."

Darcy suspected this was a dimension of Seth few people saw.  "I think I understand.  It's not the deer at all, is it?"  Not waiting for his comment, she went on.  "Hunting satisfies a primitive craving in a man's soul."

At her understanding, another primitive craving seemed to leap in his eyes, and she felt her heart answer.  Overwhelmed by the flash of heat that suffused her body, she lowered her eyes and toyed with her fork, trying to think of something witty or at least intelligent to say.

Clearing her throat, she could only come up with, "Do you see your mother often?"

"No."

His brisk answer brought her head up.  She noticed his spine had stiffened and the lines around his mouth were deeper.  "Does she have a career?"

Seth's face showed no emotion and his eyes were brutally cold.  "In her way.  She and I don't get along."  Doors clanged shut.  Subject closed.

Darcy respected the perimeters he drew but she wanted to test the boundaries by bringing up another subject they hadn't discussed.  "Why have you only represented men?"

He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table.  "I know a majority of men are guilty of not paying alimony and not paying court-ordered child support.  But there are thousands of good men who've been given a raw deal.  They want to be fathers but can only see their children once a week or on weekends.  Some men are satisfied with that.  But there are more and more who want their children with them.  And they have that right just as much as the mother.  There are still judges who believe only the mother can be the nurturing parent.  That's hogwash."

How would Seth feel if he knew she'd intended to have and raise a child without telling the father?  A foreboding chill ran up her spine.  Where had Seth's fervor originated?  Did it have something to do with his own father?  And what did Seth do when the wife of the man he represented was the better parent?

She didn't ask the questions because she didn't want to start a discussion about Marsha and that's where that conversation would go.

***

The races had already begun by the time they arrived, found a slot in the parking garage then bypassed the casino and found their way to the observation deck.  Deciding to study the racing form and watch for a while before they placed bets, they found two seats at the end of a row.

Darcy elbowed Seth as the horses pranced along the track for the next race.  "Isn't number twelve gorgeous?"  The sleek black thoroughbred held his head high and pulled at the reins.

"The horse or the jockey?" Seth teased.

She playfully punched his arm.  "When I was a child, I wanted a horse so badly.  But Pops would make a list including feed and vet bills and stabling costs and I'd realize how impractical the idea was.  He'd say 'when I have to put shoes on three kids, who has anything left over for horseshoes.'"  She smiled as she usually did when she thought of her dad.

"How did your mom feel about it?"

As happy as Darcy felt when she thought about her dad was as sad as she felt when she thought about her mother.  "Mom died when I was six.  My memories have faded over the years.  My brothers remember more than I do."

Seth put his hand on her knee.  "I'm sorry.  Losing a mother at that age had to be tough."

"It was, I guess.  Pops tried to make up for it."

"He never remarried?"

"Huh uh."

"You were lucky you didn't have a step parent to contend with."  The underlying bitterness in Seth's voice was obvious.  "You did?"

"Almost," he answered cryptically.  He took her hand in his and one by one laced their fingers.

Heat flashed through her and she concentrated on the texture of his skin to keep herself from trembling.  His hand wasn't smooth as she'd expect a lawyer's to be and she wondered why.  What did he do to get the calluses?  Did it have something to do with his vacations at the cabin?

Darcy stared at the black wavy hairs on the top of Seth's hand and his forearm, the off-white oxford cloth soft enough to mold to his body.  She remembered exactly what his chest looked like uncovered.  Was the remainder of his body as tightly defined?  As powerful?  When she raised her head, Seth's eyes were caressing.

His gaze lingered on her bare arms and his smile reached out to touch her.  "Would you like to place a bet?"

"Sure.  I do it very scientifically."

"If this is a new system, I want to hear it."

"It's easy.  I pick the names I like."

He laughed out loud.  "I should have known.  And it probably works for you, too."

"Sometimes," she admitted.  "But when you only place two dollar bets, it's more for fun than profit."

"The way it should be."  He put the racing form on her lap.  "Here.  Show me which names hit you."

She didn't have much luck with tonight's names.  Not until the seventh race.  They gazed out the immense plate glass window as the horses lined up.

"Devil-May-Care can't wait to get to the gate.  You might have a winner this time."

Darcy kept her eyes on the grey thoroughbred as the gate opened and the horse shot forward.  Devil ran with four other horses a quarter of the way around the track.  "C'mon, Devil.  You can do it!" she called as they came around another bend, their pace increasing.

Devil galloped harder and came within a length of the leader.  Darcy clenched her fists and yelled, "Go, go, go."

The horse moved ahead inch by inch and won by a nose.  Darcy grabbed Seth and hugged him.  "He won!  Did you see that?"

But instead of looking at the horse, Seth gazed at her and tightened his arms around her.  "You're something to watch when you're excited."  His voice was low and husky.

Darcy forgot about the horses outside, forgot the bystanders milling about, forgot everything but Seth's arms and the intensity of desire in his eyes.

Seth lowered his lips to hers, kissed her lightly with exploration, awakening her to his passion.  Then he plunged deeply into her mouth, delving for secrets, sweeping her away, until nothing was real except his taste, his texture, his hunger.

When he stroked his hands up and down her back, she trembled.  His breath rippled at her temple and his voice wove around her like a fine silk web.  "It's time to collect your winnings."

"What about yours?"

"I think I've already collected mine."

He could make her feel womanly and powerful so easily.  When they sat again, Seth kept her hand in his.

It was close to midnight when the last race was over.  As they walked to the car, Seth dropped his arm around her shoulders.  She felt safe and protected in a way she never had.  They didn't talk on the drive home.  There didn't seem to be a need.

When Seth pulled up in front of Darcy's house, she asked, "Would you like to come in?"

"I'd like to very much."

Darcy waited until Seth opened the car door for her and helped her out.  His arm possessively hooked around her waist as they made their way to her front door.  A half-moon beamed enough light for Darcy to find her key and insert it in the lock.

Once inside, she asked, "Would you like some wine?  Iced tea?"

"Iced tea."

In a few minutes Darcy was back with tall glasses.  After setting them on the coffee table, she lit on the sofa a few inches from Seth.  He crooked her chin toward him.  The heat radiating from his eyes could have toasted marshmallows.  He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs.  Slowly, he bent toward her.  When his lips met hers, his hand slid under her hair, holding her where he wanted her.  He opened his lips slowly.  The tip of his tongue played across her mouth asking for entrance.

Darcy was so sweet, almost childlike.  Seth felt as if he were trespassing on virgin territory.  His desire began to explode as he tasted, dipped, possessed...opening her to his power.  He found the sweet flesh of her cheeks, explored the roof of her mouth, repetitively stroked her tongue.  Why was this lady so different?  How could she excite him so thoroughly, so quickly?  When he'd kissed her at the track, he'd kept it short, knowing much more of her passionate response would make him uncomfortable for the rest of the evening.  He got aroused watching her, smelling her, and touching her.  This...now...was exactly what he'd wanted since he met her.

Darcy responded tentatively and he wanted more.  "Give me your tongue," he murmured.

Obediently, she nudged into his mouth.  He gave a low groan, inhaling her fragrance, tasting her sweetness, losing his way.  As Seth brushed his fingers through her hair, Darcy curiously kneaded up and down his back as if she were discovering, learning, investigating.  When her tongue dueled with his, advancing then retreating, he shuddered, his body throbbing.

Seth felt like a man starving for whatever Darcy could offer.  He wanted to give her as much pleasure as she gave him.  In the past, he'd pleasured his partners mechanically.  With Darcy, he wanted her to desire him as much as he desired her.  He kissed her again and again.  Withdrawing, pressing in deeply.  Withdrawing, flicking forward.  Withdrawing, angling his tongue at varied tempos until she clung to him.

Slowly ending the kiss, he pushed her down onto the sofa while his lips pecked along her chin, down her neck, across her shoulder.  She writhed under him and arched up.  He was stunned by her response.  Could she truly want him that much?  He'd never found a woman who needed with the same hunger as a man, who was willing to forget pretense and make-up and hairdo, to let herself go enough to be mindless with desire.  No, he'd never met a woman like that.

Darcy rubbed against him wanting more friction.  Pleasure, so strong it shook him, soared through him.  He stopped, studied, savored each of the freckles on her arm while he worked his knee between her legs and unbuttoned her bodice.  His arousal slanted against her hip.  As he rubbed against her, he couldn't keep back a groan of pleasure.  The sound opened Darcy's eyes.  They were wild with a need he could hardly believe.  He wanted to fill it.

With deliberate attention, he kissed the pulse at her throat, then centimeter by centimeter moved toward the lacy bra covering her breasts.  The thought of discovering whether the crest would be pink or dusky rose, the thought of playing with the nipple with his tongue increased the deep, dark hunger swelling inside him.  He cupped one small mound in his hand and played his finger over the peak, causing a whimper to escape her throat.