Salvation (12 page)

I woke much more optimistic, but with a slightly fuzzy head. Tonight, I would endure an extra tough gym workout as penance for the over-indulgence of a litre tub of ice-cream Mai and I demolished between us.

My eager friend had insisted she handled all my calls
—
just in case. All morning, I
’
d seen her field call after call and shared her sorrow when each one wasn
’
t Nate. Then I received a vibrant bouquet of mixed tulips, wrapped in green tissue and hand-tied with green raffia. The message, artfully handwritten on a simple white card:

Thinking of you. Nx

“
Now you have an excuse to call him,
”
Mai stated.
“
Thank him for the flowers, see where the conversation goes.
”

“
I can
’
t.
”
Full of anxiety, I stood, deciding that making the coffees might distract me. My mobile rang just as I reached the door. I froze, knowing it was Nate.

“
Answer it then!
”
Mai picked it up, shoving it at me impatiently.

“
Can I have some privacy?
”
I motioned to the door. She backed away, huffing and puffing her indignation. My mind slipped into gear and I answered before it went to voicemail.

“
Hello.
”
I rounded the desk and sat down, noticing my hand trembling.

“
Kara.
”
Nate
’
s soothing voice instantly calmed me.
“
I
’
m so sorry I haven
’
t called sooner.
”

“
It
’
s fine. You must be busy.
”

“
I
’
ve missed your voice. It
’
s so good to hear it again.
”
I let his confession sink in as I noticed Mai loitering outside my now closed door.
“
You haven
’
t left my thoughts since I saw you last. Did you receive my flowers?
”

“
Yes, they
’
re beautiful, thank you. I wasn’t sure if you still
—”

“
If I still what? Wanted to see you?
”

“
Yes,
”
I mumbled. I could give him many reasons why he could’ve changed his mind about us.

“
Well, I do, so have you made a decision?
”
he asked nervously.

“
I have.
”

“
Are you going to put me out of my misery and tell me?
”
There was humour in his tone.

I smiled.
“
I
’
m starving.
”

The relative silence accompanying our conversation was unexpectedly interrupted by a blast of car horns and screeching sirens, making me think he
’
d stepped outside. Then it quietened again after the sound of a car door slamming shut.
“
Interesting choice of words,
”
he murmured.

“
Thought you
’
d appreciate them.
”
I grinned, swivelling my chair side-to-side.

“
Oh, I do,
”
he said smoothly,
“
and I
’
m ravenous.
”
Warmth spread rapidly through my body, my nipples tightening, my skin misting.
“
What do you like to eat, Kara?
”
he asked, his voice suddenly husky.

“
Everything.
”
I panted, unbuttoning the top button of my cotton shirt. I heard a muttered expletive and my smile widened.

“
What
’
s going on?
”
Mai mouthed, eying me curiously with a smirk through the glass. Then, she put her hands together like she was praying and begged,
“
Let me in.
”
I shook my head and swivelled my chair around, needing all my focus on the conversation happening on my phone.

“
Be ready at eight Saturday evening,
”
Nate stated boldly.
“
I
’
ll pick you up.
”

Never one for patience, Mai allowed me all of five-seconds after I
’
d hung up before barging in.
“
Well?
”

I spun to see her wide-eyed expectant expression.
“
Saturday,
”
I confirmed.

Mai shrieked and fist-pumped the air.
“
I
’
ll clear your schedule.
”
With much excitement, she danced back to the door.
“
Time for some sexy clothes shopping!
”

I collected my thoughts, tapping my phone on my chin as I flopped back into my chair. I
’
d done it now. No going back. I was agreeing to more than dinner.

I was giving him permission to take me to bed.

THIS WAS IT. Never had I been more nervous about a date than right now. My skin flushed, my core stirring expectantly with nerves and excitement. I drained the last of my wine and placed the glass in the dishwasher, careful not to chip my newly French manicured fingernails.

The pearl earrings my father gave me when I left matched the minaudi
è
re I
’
d purchased at a house clearance a few weeks ago. My eyes were smoky grey, my lips glistening with the sheen of pink gloss. A few strands of hair curled around my face, the rest twisted into a loose chignon at my nape.

The outfit Mai persuaded me to buy during Friday
’
s lunchtime shopping trip was beautiful, if a little more daring than I was used to. The embellished golden 1920s style flapper dress was sleeveless, with a scoop neckline and a deep
‘
V
’
cut back, showing a serious amount of flesh. The dropped waist gave way to a ruched skirt that hung above the knee.

If I had carpet, my metallic ankle-strap heeled sandals would have worn a hole in it from all the pacing I was doing in the lounge. I stopped to admire them for the umpteenth time and the co-ordinating shimmering bronze varnish on my toes. Mai called them
“
fuck me
”
shoes. They lengthened my legs and revealed the arches of my feet
—
an extremely erogenous zone. I heard a car outside, the sound of a door closing, then a few seconds later my intercom was pressed.

“
Hi.
”
My voice was breathy when I answered.

“
Hey, it
’
s me.
”
Nate
’
s tone was warm and inviting, if a little breathless, too.

“
I
’
m on my way down.
”
I grabbed my clutch and exhaled a large breath of air as I locked my door and made my way downstairs. My steps faltered on the last step when I saw Nate staring back at me from outside. He looked good.
Really good.

I opened the door and stepped into the muggy night air.

“
Wow.
”
Nate
’
s voice hitched and he quietly cleared his throat. He stepped forward, lips grazing mine. I breathed in his cologne
—
a sensual exotic scent, reminiscent of a stroll through a Moroccan marketplace
—
allowing it to weave into my senses.
“
You look incredible.
”

“
So do you.
”
It had been such an unexpected kiss, I temporarily lost the ability to think or speak, fumbling with the clasp of my bag instead. Nate
’
s mouth twitched. He was dressed in black trousers and matching shirt. The undone top two buttons hinted at smooth tanned skin underneath. Effortlessly handsome, sensual eyes and smooth skin, never had I seen a man look so good. Or maybe it had been so long since I viewed one with as much admiration as I did Nate.

“
Shall we?
”
With his hand at the small of my back, he guided me down the path. As his fingers skimmed the open cut of my dress, a soft sigh escaped my mouth.

A tall, burly man, mixed race and possibly mid-thirties, wearing a white shirt, dark tie and trousers, stood next to the rear door of a black Mercedes. It was the same car that had appeared at the wine bar. Nate opened my door and gestured me inside.

Settling beside me, Nate nodded up front as he buckled his seatbelt.
“
That
’
s my driver, Ross.
”

I smiled shyly at Ross, his eyes acknowledging me in the rearview mirror. Nate lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing the back before lowering our joined hands to the seat between us. His lips sent a tingle up my arm, straight down my core, finally settling with a flutter in my stomach.

That sexual charge of tension hung in the air between us. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry as my eyes drifted appreciatively over him. The shadows dancing over his face, combined with the inky black of his attire, gave him an extremely captivating, yet almost dangerous aura.

Dangerously beautiful
—
the perfect description. I didn
’
t stand a chance.

THE car stopped outside Cleo, a restaurant nestled beneath The Redbury in Hollywood. Nate joined me on the pavement and led me inside. As we walked across the checkerboard tiled floor of the subtly lit lobby, I began to relax. I knew Nate has chosen this establishment with me in mind. It was classy, but not ostentatious. It wasn’t somewhere to flash the cash and intimidate.

Nate guided me past the few patrons enjoying pre-dinner drinks at the bar. A sharp-suited ma
î
tre de greeted us and led us through a large archway, an illuminated image of an actress from the golden era of silent Hollywood films dominating the wall in front of us.

Candles replaced the subdued mood lighting, flickering in red and blue tea lights on the tables. The hub of noise from the other diners chatter brought a different ambience to the place; it was vibrant and fun, yet remained intimate and romantic.

I slid onto the tan leather studded sofa and tucked my bag beside me. Nate sat, close enough so our legs touched beneath the table. After handing us menus and informing us of the specials, the waiter agreed to bring water before disappearing into the darkness.

“
Have you eaten here before?
”
I regretted the question immediately. Nate bringing other dates here was information I didn
’
t care to know.

“
Never,
”
he quickly reassured, smiling guiltily,
“
but I
’
ve had takeout enough times to know the food
’
s great.
”

I scanned the dozens of dishes on the menu but could barely read it. Too self-conscious and not wanting to put on my glasses, I said,
“
It
’
s going to be tough choosing, everything sounds delicious.
”

“
I can order for us if you like, baby?
”
The tenderly spoken term of endearment made my already rapid pulse leap.

I exhaled in a rush, relieved.
“
That sounds perfect.
”

The flick of his tongue over his lips drew my gaze to his mouth. I remembered how great they were to kiss and how badly I wanted to do it again. Gently, Nate teased my bottom lip from my teeth with his thumb. I hadn
’
t appreciated I was biting it.
“
Dinner will be over before we
’
ve even eaten if you keep looking at me like that,
”
he muttered roughly.

The waiter interrupted, so whilst Nate ordered, I took a large gulp of chilled water. The whisper of his words still vibrated through me, the question of how the night would end never far from my thoughts. Nate squeezed my hand, then trapped it between both of his.

“
I
’
m so glad you said yes, Kara.
”
He spoke quietly, his eyes fixed on our hands, drawing my own to the same place.

I wasn’t sure if it was Nate or the atmosphere, possibly both, but I was being seduced in the most unassuming way.
“
You
’
re hard to say no to.
”
In this intimate setting, I was incredibly turned on, and rubbed my leg intentionally against his.

His head jerked up. He studied me without a word, yet his eyes screamed of his hunger for me. It took a minute for us to acknowledge the sommelier presenting a bottle of vintage Veuve Clicquot.

“
Champagne?
”
I asked Nate as two flutes of my favourite celebratory drink were poured.