Love's Last Chance (4 page)

“Penny for your thoughts,” she managed,
between bites of her superb steak.

Now, it was his turn to blush. “Oh, dear.
I’m afraid I’d get more like five to ten if you knew what I was
really
thinking.” His fair skin turned a becoming shade of
deep pink, causing Dorrie to laugh.
I’ll bet he was thinking
about that shoot.

“
Dishonor with the Duke?”
she
whispered.

“Good Lord. She’s a mind reader!” His face
expressed mock shock, and they both laughed as Archer’s color
returned to normal.

The sommelier returned to pour more wine,
and Dorrie began to relax. She had always loved being in the
company of this charming, older man, and this night was no
exception. His attentiveness and wit singled him out as superior to
other men. Archer turned the conversation away from racy thoughts
to their work lives.

He elaborated some on his promotion and the
good health of Moonlight Books. Dorrie told him about her accident
and new career. She glossed over her failed engagement with a
sentence or two, not revealing her intended was Gunther Quill or
the reason for their breakup. Archer, always the gentleman, didn’t
pry. She breathed a sigh of relief that he accepted her explanation
at face value, with no further information required.

“Dessert?” the waiter asked.

Dorrie shook her head. “I’m full.”

“You’re not modeling anymore, so why not?
They have absolutely yummy desserts here. Gustaf, read her the
list,” Archer instructed.

Dorrie’s eyes widened at the mention of the
sinful, warm chocolate cake with liquid center and whipped
cream.

“Aha! I see we have a winner!” Archer
grinned.

“Really, I shouldn’t.”

“How about if I share? Then you’ll only be
eating half.”

She couldn’t resist and nodded with
enthusiasm. Gustaf gave a short bow and left quietly.

“You must feed this new figure of
yours.”

“You noticed?”

“How could I help it? Quite an
improvement…not that you weren’t anything but enchanting before…but
this…uh…fuller…you…” he stuttered along, getting redder and
redder.

Dorrie laughed at him. “I see. You like a
little more…um, meat on the bones?”

“That’s it. Yes. You put it perfectly.” He
let out a breath.

“So do I. That’s a benefit of not being a
dancer. I don’t have to be so skinny anymore.”

“It suits you.” Again, his gaze slid over
her body like a warm hand, causing a tiny shiver to race up her
spine.

The dessert arrived with two forks. Archer
let her take the first bite. A dab of whipped cream stuck to her
lip. He swiped his thumb over her upper lip to remove the cream
then put it to his mouth.

“Shame on me. Mother taught us never to lick
our fingers, especially in public. Couldn’t help it.”

The moment his finger touched her lips, she
wished it had been his tongue instead. She closed her eyes to focus
on the sensation, the pressure sliding across her mouth. They
devoured the chocolate cake quickly, keeping eye contact. The
temperature between them rose with every bite. Dorrie wanted him,
wanted to be crushed against his slender, wiry frame, wanted to
lose her inhibitions with him in a big bed with soft sheets and a
plush comforter.

Archer pulled his credit card out and placed
it over the bill. With his other hand, he traced a finger down her
cheek. “As sweet as ever. Dorrie, you’re a breath of fresh
air.”

And you’re still hot as hell with your
civilized, formal ways, perfect shirts, and expertly knotted ties.
Smoldering underneath, making me want to uncover the beast in
you.

“Thank you for the delightful dinner.”

They walked out the front door.

“It’s a beautiful evening. May I walk you
home?”

“Of course.”

He closed his hand around hers and they
strolled up Broadway, stopping to look in the shop windows and
comment on the displays. Arch made witty remarks, and Dorrie
giggled. After a few blocks, he drew her to him, and they continued
the stroll with his arm around her shoulders and hers around his
waist.

The sweetness of the night air, mixed with
his aftershave, intoxicated her. Archer was no body-builder. He was
lean. She liked his trim build and average height. What he lacked
in muscles, he made up for in kindness and intelligence.

“Do you have your own place while you’re
here?” His question wasn’t very subtle. She chuckled to herself at
his clumsy attempt to find out if they had somewhere to be
alone.

“I’m bunking in with a couple…old friends
from before.”

“Oh, I see. Very economical.” He nodded, but
she saw the disappointment in his eyes.

I also wish I had my own place so we
could be alone.
She sighed. As they passed a narrow alley,
Archer stepped inside, taking her with him. He took her in his arms
and kissed her. After joining her hands around his neck, she peered
at his eyes.

“You’re irresistible,” he whispered,
lowering his lips to hers again. He angled his head to deepen the
kiss. Dorrie opened her mouth to him, and their connection got
passionate. His hands slid down her back, cupping her bottom,
pulling her into him until there wasn’t a breath of air between
them. She softened against him, submitting to his desire, wanting
him.

His hand traveled up to her ribcage and
higher to cover her breast. A soft squeeze made her moan at the
pleasure of his touch. He broke from her, kissing her neck and
further down until his exploration was thwarted by the neckline of
her dress. As if his internal flame was suddenly doused by a bucket
of cold water, Arch straightened up and took a step back.

“I’m so sorry. Inexcusable. I lost my head,
I’m afraid.” His voice was soft and low but fire still burned in
his eyes.

“Sorry for what?” Her breathing slightly
ragged, she leaned back against the brick wall.

“For…taking such liberties. I shouldn’t
have…touched you like that.” He cast his gaze to the ground.

“I wanted you to.”

His eyes widened slightly as they connected
with hers. He raised an eyebrow. “You did?”

Dorrie closed the gap between them, grabbing
his lapels and pulling him to her for another kiss. This time, she
slipped her tongue into his mouth. He responded immediately,
crushing her against his chest. She lost her sense of time and
place in the sensations his mouth and hands were creating. There
was nothing for Dorrie but Archer Canfield and the heat burning
through her veins as her need for him grew.

“Eh, buddy. This isn’t the place for that
stuff. Move along…”

The would-be lovers parted, sucking in air.
Glancing toward the street they spied a police officer, legs
spread, hands on hips.

“I’m sorry, officer. Of course. You are
correct. Please beg our pardon.” Archer straightened his tie, and
pushed the hair off his forehead as he stepped back into a
shadow.

Dorrie could barely breathe. She stared at
the cop, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks. Smoothing down her
dress, she returned to the sidewalk.

The police officer nodded to the couple and
went on his way. Archer and Dorrie stood for a second before
joining hands and continuing to the Cunningham apartment. They
stopped at the threshold. Angus tipped his hat and held the wrought
iron door open.

“How long will you be in New York? Can I see
you again?” Archer asked, his voice low.

“A few weeks. I’d love to see you
again.”

“Good. Let me check my schedule tomorrow,
and I’ll call you.”

“I’ll be rehearsing all day, so a text or
email might be better.”

“I hate those damn things.”

“Gotta move with the times, Arch.”

He chuckled. “I know, I know. Okay. I’ll get
in touch with you one way or another.”

“I had a fabulous time tonight.” She kissed
him lightly.

“Me, too.” She touched his lips before he
turned toward the curb. He raised his hand and a cab stopped. She
watched as the vehicle pulled away. A small sigh escaped her mouth
as Archer was whisked away to his apartment downtown.

“Good evening, miss,” Angus said.

“It was a very good evening. Thank you.
Goodnight.” She headed for the elevator.

Drake and Chrissy were watching television
when Dorrie let herself into the apartment.

“How was your date?” Chrissy asked, while
Drake froze the image on the TV screen.

“Good.”

“No lipstick. Must have been good,” Chrissy
snickered.

“Thanks for that observation,” Dorrie
chuckled.

Drake turned to face her. “Was it everything
you thought it’d be?”

“And more. I’m tired. Goodnight.”

Dorrie toed off her shoes and padded into
her room. After slipping her naked body between the sheets, she
stared out the window at the full moon.
If he wanted me that
much, why didn’t we jump into a cab and go back to his place? Maybe
he wanted to test the waters first. Maybe on the next date?

She was ready to jump into bed with him.
But will I get the chance?
She fell asleep wondering about
Archer Canfield, more questions without answers.

At lunch, Dorrie checked her email and found
a message from Archer.

So great to see you last night. How about
the theater? Will get tickets for whatever you want. Or maybe the
Philharmonic? They’re doing Disney classic music. Sounds odd but
might be good. Thursday?

Archer

She replied—

Disney classics sounds like fun. Thursday
works. Will rehearse until 7 so no time for dinner. Can I meet you
at Lincoln Center?

From Archer—

Done! Tickets are ours. 8 pm. Can I take you
out afterward? You can’t go without eating.

Her response—

Perfect! See you at 8. Thank you.

She munched on a sandwich while talking with
the cast. Chaz Duncan, the star, managed to get her alone.

“Can we go over the part you’ve added?” He
sipped on an iced coffee.

“Sure. Now?”

“Finish eating.”

She took another bite of her ham and
swiss.

“Where are you staying?”

“With friends.”

“If you need a place, Megan and I have an
extra room. Meg’d love to see you again.”

“Thanks. So far so good. Are you bringing
her to the shoot in L.A.?”

“She goes everywhere with me.” Dorrie arched
an eyebrow. “It’s not that she doesn’t trust me. We don’t like to
be separated. She can work from anywhere, as long as there’s
Internet access.”

“That’s so sweet!”

Chaz blushed. “Don’t go mushy on me.”

“I’m sorry, but it is. Newlyweds sticking
together like glue.”

“How come you’re not married?” He sat
back.

Dorrie blinked. “That’s direct.”

“Sorry. I’m too blunt sometimes.” Chaz hid
behind his coffee cup.

“It’s okay. Haven’t met the right guy. Well,
maybe I have but didn’t know it.”

“Mysterious...”

“I’m reconnecting with a couple of guys I
used to know here.”

“Oh?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Anyone I
know?”

“No one from the industry. Just…guys.”

“Does this mean you’re husband-hunting?”

“What an awful term!” She made a face.

“Strike two. Maybe I’d better shut up.” He
chuckled.

“I’m ready to fall in love…I think. Can’t
force it, though.”

“It hits you, somehow. Anyway, it did with
me. Now I can’t be without her. Which guy is in first place?”

She laughed. “It’s not a sport. And I
haven’t seen them all yet.”

“You’ve seen one? Two?”

“Just one.”

“And? Come on, give. Don’t make me worm it
out of you.”

“You’re such a gossip! Men are worse than
women. I swear.”

“Avoidance tactics won’t work with me.
Give.”

“I met with the first one. He’s great. We’re
going out again on Thursday.”

“A contender?”

She nodded. Chaz rubbed his hands together.
“This looks interesting. I might take bets. Three guys vying for
your hand. Pretty dramatic.”

“Nobody’s vying for anything. Not yet. I’m
exploring.”

“Exploring? Sounds sexy,” he snickered.

“Chaz, don’t you have to practice or
something?” Dorrie stood up and turned away to cover her
embarrassment.

“Okay, okay. Strike three. I’ll shut up. Can
you show me that last step before I connect with the girl again?”
She stood up and demonstrated it. Then Chaz followed her. Within
ten minutes, the rest of the dancers drifted in and began
stretching. Rehearsal got underway again, and Dorrie focused on
whipping the young men and women into shape.

By seven, everyone was exhausted. Before
Dorrie could hit the shower, Chaz grabbed her arm. “Have dinner
with Megan and me tonight.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Meg’s cooking.”

“Isn’t this late notice?”

“She won’t mind. I’m sure there’s enough
food.”

“Better ask her first.”

While Chaz dialed his wife, Dorrie wiped her
face with a small towel, and her thoughts turned to a mental to-do
list for the show.
Plug the hip-hop number again. Scope out the
park site. Get Sam in line with Angela. Maybe switch
partners?

Chaz put down his phone. “All set. Should I
wait?”

“I’ll be quick.”

Dorrie took a shower and threw on a sundress
in dark turquoise with flat sandals. Then, she slung her rehearsal
bag over her shoulder, and the two marched across to Central Park
West, their heads together, lost in conversation about the dance
number and the movie.

The evening went quickly. Dorrie and Megan
reconnected. The threesome joked and laughed about people in the
industry. Dorrie gave Meg some exercises to stretch out her back
since her work as a financial advisor was always done sitting
down.

After three glasses of wine, Dorrie was
feeling no pain. She sauntered up Central Park West, humming and
occasionally breaking into one of the songs from
Hustle and
Dance.
At red lights, she’d stop, do a dance step, and shrug,
if others looked at her.