Male Order Bride (15 page)

He patted her hand and kept driving. "How about some
breakfast?" he asked.

"If you can help keep my eyes propped open," she said,
yawning again, "I'd love it."

"I'll have to try something stimulating."

"Like conversation?" she said, not feeling as if she was
up to anything else this night.

"If that's all I can get."

She nodded. "I'm afraid that's all the market has left for
tonight. Or is it today? I guess it's this morning already, isn't it?"

By the time breakfast arrived, Lacey was wideawake again.
Too wide-awake, she later decided, because somehow she had gotten onto
the subject of Dominick and ended up telling Rafe all the details of
her last love ordeal. When she finished, she realized it was the first
time she had revealed so much of her emotional upheaval to a man, and
he had listened attentively to her every word.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I shouldn't have gotten so
morose."

"It never hurts to verbalize these things," he told her,
making her wonder what episodes in his past he kept to himself.

He lived with his past more than most people, carrying it
with him when he moved, like mementos in a trunk. Without his friends
and a strange kind of mobile family, he would not be the person he was:
a composite of memories and actions. Lacey felt awed again at how much
there was still to discover about this man.

By the time coffee arrived at the end of the meal, she was
barely awake. Rafe smiled across the booth at her as if she were a
favorite child who had fallen asleep in the picture show. He pulled a
stack of bills out of his wallet to pay for the check, and reached
across the table to take her hand and help her up.

Exhausted, Lacey kept a contented smile on her face as he
slowly drove to her house. "I don't want to take you home," he told her.

"I don't really want to go," she answered, "but turn left
at the stoplight."

"I know where you live," he told her, smiling across at
her and taking her hand in his. "I've checked you out pretty
thoroughly."

"Were you so sure I'd go out with you?" she asked.

"Not at all," he answered. "I had no idea it would work
out as well as it has."

"Do you feel it too?" she asked, smiling at him. Was he
part of her imagination, or had this evening been better than a fairy
tale?

"You still have three options," he told her, slowing down
to turn the corner.

"Which are?"

"You can come home with me and we can both go to sleep.
I'm capable of just plain sleeping with you, if that's all you want."

"Sounds wonderful," she murmured, tempted to say yes. But
how could she? This was just their first date. "And?"

"Let me come home with you and we can both go to sleep. If
that's all you want."

"Uhmm. I like that too. What else?"

"I can take you home and go home too."

"Uhm." It would be so easy to take him at his word and
just fall asleep in his arms. She trusted him. After so few hours
together, she knew she could be content just to lie in his arms and not
worry about how smeared her makeup might be, or how she would look to
him hours from now when they would wake up together. "I think I'll opt
for suggestion number three."

"I thought you would," he said, stroking her hand as if to
tell her he had expected that, as much as he would have liked one of
the other options. He approached the main turning to her street. "It's
still not too late for me to turn the car around and take you home with
me. I won't ever accuse you of having a woman's mind if you change it."

She smiled. He was endearing himself to her even more. It
also weakened her defenses so that if he so much as led her in the
right direction she wouldn't protest any longer. She shook her head.
She couldn't bring herself to tell him that she was ready to let him go.

"Why don't you call me later today?" he asked her.

"I will," she promised.

He drove into her driveway, stopped the car and walked
around to let her out. But he blocked her way, leaning inside the car
to kiss her for a long, luxurious time, his mouth courting hers,
teaching her tenderness and longing.

"I had a wonderful evening," he told her when his lips
finally left hers and he allowed her to get out of the car.

"Not half as nice as the one I did," she said, smiling,
loving his arm around her shoulders as he walked her to her door. She
wouldn't invite him in because they both knew what that would mean.
Nevertheless, she had never been so willing to give herself to any man
the first time they went out on a date.

He kissed her again at the door, a brief kiss. And seeing
that she was safely inside, he turned and left her.

The birds were chirping and the sun was creeping up past
the trees as she listened to his car drive off—dusk-to-dawn
date. Everything about Rafe Chancellor was original!

Lacey fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the
pillow, wondering how nice and snuggly sleep would have been if it had
started in Rafe's arms. She thought about him from the minute she awoke
the next morning, let her mind wander through the sermon at church, and
barely contributed anything to the conversation over lunch when she
joined her parents. She considered telling her parents about him, but
her mother would be ready to marry Lacey off after this first date.
Lacey just wouldn't be able to explain to her that they were good
friends. Neither of them was ready for a serious relationship, no
matter how brilliant the fireworks.

It wasn't until she had backed out the driveway and was on
her way home that she realized she'd cut short her usual Sunday visit
with her parents with the speed of a greased cannonball. She was eager
to get home and phone Rafe. He had asked her to call; she hoped that
meant he wanted to see her.

"Hello, lady," he said when she phoned and reminded him
who she was. "Are you having a good day?"

Much better now
, she thought, the
tension going out of her just to hear his voice again. She shouldn't
have left him this morning. It had only been on principle, because she
had never spent the night with a man the first time she had met him. It
hadn't been out of lack of desire to stay with him. That still amazed
her, that she would even consider it. She was disappointed not to have
led with her emotions. "Just fine," she answered. "What have you been
doing?"

"I just woke up," he told her. She felt hot at the thought
that if she had stayed with him, she would have just now been waking up
too, or else going back to sleep after making love.

"Why don't you ride out to the country?" he invited.

Lacey bit her lip. It was what she wanted to do. Should
she? They had just spent eleven hours together. Now he was tempting her
to come home with him. Amazing, she thought, when most of her dates in
the past wouldn't call her again for a week, just to keep her guessing.

"I'll fix you some tea," he coaxed her, "in tagless tea
bags."

"That's an offer that's hard to refuse," she answered.

"Ride on out, then," he told her. "Can you find the way?"

"I think so," she answered, and threw one of his lines
back at him. "I'm a good scout. I don't need a trail of bread crumbs or
beer cans to find my way."

"I'll be waiting," he said.

"Wait a minute," she said before he could hang up. "I
think we better get something straight. I'm just coming to visit."

"For tea, right," he told her, then surprised her further
by guessing what was on her mind. "I've been keeping a secret count,
and you've used up quite a few of your excuses, but you still have
thirty-seven chances for 'no' left."

Lacey laughed. "When did I use up that many? This isn't
fair. You have to call each one out to me as I use it up, or it doesn't
count. The only one I know of is not coming home with you this morning."

"That was number thirty-eight," he told her. "Math was
always one of my better subjects."

"I'm going to dispute that."

"Good," he told her. "This could be enjoyable. I'll leave
the back door open for you."

"Where are you going to be?"

"Probably right here, in bed. You can come wake me up like
Angela does, with a Sleeping Beauty kiss."

Lacey laughed, wanting to smother him with love. But she
couldn't; it was too soon. That was the only thing holding her back.
"If you don't meet me at the door, fully dressed, in your living room,
I'm going back to 2001—just out of principle. And this time
I'll be the record keeper."

"I'll be waiting for you," he told her again, ignoring her
demands.

Lacey drove to Rafe's house in a fit of nerves. What if he
did leave the back door open and expect her to find him in his bedroom?
What if she gave in to her baser instincts and just plain fall into bed
with him?

No. She just couldn't do it, no matter how special he was.
Lacey Adams didn't fall in and out of bed or love that easily. She
wasn't in love, she told herself as she turned into his drive. She was
only "in happiness" with Rafe. Love couldn't happen like lightning. A
woman had to build and grow and work at love.

When she drove up to the garage to park behind his cars,
she saw him standing at the screened-in back porch, waiting for her,
smiling. She heaved a sigh of relief. He was being suggestive on
purpose, just to make her want him more.

"Come into the house," he said, holding open the door and
pulling her into his arms.

Lacey moaned contentedly against him. He was such a wall
of strength and affection. She couldn't get enough of him, and judging
by the way he held her tightly in his arms, he, too, needed her.

He loosened his hold slightly to kiss her, then turned to
lead her into the living room, where he had a steaming cup of tea
waiting for her.

"What took you so long?" he asked her once he was seated
in the bamboo chair, a cup of coffee sitting on the head of an elephant
stand beside him.

"We just met," she said, trying to explain her feelings.
That was another funny thing about him. They hadn't played the usual
flirting games with each other. Their conversation had been direct,
devouring, and often deep. "I don't want you to feel like I'm taking up
too much of your time."

"I wouldn't have invited you here if I hadn't wanted you
to be here." He picked up his coffee cup. "If you will recall, I didn't
want you to go home last night, at least not without me."

She smiled, pleased, flattered, nervous. "It's too soon,
Rafe," she said, not mistaking the implication behind his words.

"I know," he answered. "I meant what I said about wanting
to be your friend and lover. You'll let me know when you get ready. But
I'm not going to stop asking."

Lacey picked up her cup of tea, looking away from him
around the room and wondering how best to change the subject. He did it
for her, telling her about himself, introducing her to his world. By
the end of the afternoon she had met his company from Vietnam through a
taped interview; he had shown her a scrapbook his grandmother had
compiled from his days in the service; and she had learned about the
book he had written to separate his past life from his present one.

Little by little he gave her building blocks for her
approval and acceptance of him into her world. This man was a leader;
he could dominate. Yet he had taught her in a short while from his
treatment of her that he could also be gentle, caring, and respectful
of her own rights. He put her on an equal footing with himself, and let
her know that he was impressed with her.

Her accomplishments seemed so tiny in comparison to his
well-traveled past. All she had done was basically stay in one place
and design apparel. Surprisingly, that fascinated Rafe, and his awe of
her creativity was genuine. He knew how to make her feel significant,
someone as commanding of respect as he himself was.

He also enticed her further to forget about those last
thirty-seven excuses when he took her hand and led her gently down with
him on the carpet. He didn't attempt to undress her, which aroused her
more as his lips savored hers, kissing and sucking her lower lip into
his mouth. Tenderly his tongue explored the tip of hers, waiting for
her lips to invite his tongue inside. Gently he entered, tasting and
exploring.

It was like slow-motion lovemaking, Lacey thought. He
aroused sensations of breathlessness, excitement and awe she had never
felt before. By taking his time, he made her that much more aware of
how each nerve ending was attuned to his slightest move. He kept his
hands on her back, but lying against him, she could feel his arousal
and knew her own heated response to him.

His tongue took a flicking path across her cheek to her
neck and ear. She sighed and relaxed in his arms.

She returned his affection, sweeping her tongue in little
circles along his neck, behind his ear. He nuzzled his head closer to
her mouth, his arms tightening around her. Lacey smiled at his response
and brought her lips back to his, tracing the shape of his mouth with
the faintest tip of her tongue, taking her time as he had done with her.

His fingers caressed her spine, massaging her back,
working toward her neck and shoulders. "Uhmmmm," Lacey murmured,
snuggling closer, lifting her head and feeling his tender tongue on her
throat. She felt chills and warmth at her response to him. She wanted
to make love with him, knowing he would be tender, gentle, loving. But
how could she, when she had known him only two days?

Why should time be a factor? she asked herself, sinking
further into his embrace with the tender invitation of his lips on
hers. The depth of her feelings was much stronger than anything she had
ever had with Dominick.

It's too soon
, she thought,
frightened by the intensity of their coming together. He was tugging at
her shirttails, pulling them out from the back of her pants to slip his
hands beneath the material and caress the bare skin of her back.