The Marriage List (4 page)

"Oh?" She could hear the disappointment in
his voice.

"We're having a business crunch and I'm
working long hours. I just walked in the door when you called."

"I'm glad you can carve out the time to come
with me."

"Me, too. See you then."

"Goodnight, Carrie, pleasant dreams."

Carrie hung up the phone and plopped down on
the sofa. She couldn't have been more surprised if she'd won the
lottery.
So Grey Andrews isn't gay and he felt the chemistry as
much as I did.. Called less than a week after our date. Hmm. Could
be interesting.

She got undressed, slipped into bed and fell
asleep thinking about Grey.

****

"You're leaving?" Dennis asked her.

"I have a date, Dennis."

"But we have so much work to do…"

"Not tonight. I'm going out. I'll work on it
at home, better yet, I'll come back after the date," she said,
packing papers into her briefcase.

"Joe's not gonna like this," he warned.

"Tough. I've got a life, too."

"Had a life, Carrie, had."

"Speak for yourself," she said, pushing by
him to get to the elevator.

Carrie was wearing an aqua silk dress, cut
low and fitted at the waist that brought out the blue of her eyes.
The skirt was full but soft and clung to her hips and thighs. The
air was cool for August so she had a lightweight jacket thrown over
her shoulders. When she hit the street, Grey stepped out of a black
limousine and held the door open. When he looked at her, his gaze
felt like the caress of a warm hand sliding gently down her
body.

"You look beautiful," he said, holding the
door for her.

She smiled at him, watching his eyes, pleased
to see the light of desire spark there when he looked at her. He
was wearing a charcoal Grey business suit with a blue shirt and a
black knit tie. Flecks of green in his eyes glittered when they
looked at her. He took her hand, sending shivers up her arm, and
helped her in the car then eased his six foot one inch frame in
next to her. Their shoulders and thighs touched, making Carrie
tingle. Grey gave instructions to the driver then took her
hand.

The car stopped at a little French restaurant
on Second Avenue called Sans Souci. The tiny place was charming,
intimate and romantic inside, with about fifteen small tables, dark
turquoise walls and red tablecloths that went all the way to the
floor. A table in the corner had been set for two, with one tall
candle glowing and a bottle of wine waiting. Grey held out her
chair then sat down next to her, instead of across from her.

The Maître d' came by and placed napkins in
their laps, and then asked for drink orders.

Carrie shook her head. "Just water,
please."

"Are you sure?"

"I have to work after the ballet, so I need
to be awake."

"Wine with dinner?"

"Maybe just half…okay one glass," she
said.

"Tell me what is keeping you so busy," Grey
asked, pouring the wine.

Carrie spent the next ten minutes regaling
him about the stress of trying to save the Country Lane Cosmetics
account and handle the pressure of new business assignments at the
same time. He quietly took her hand and listened attentively.

"What about you? What exactly do you do and
how did you get there?"

"Big questions…can't be answered in a few
simple sentences. Let's order first."

Carrie ordered
coq au vin
, Grey, steak
au poivre
, then he began his tale.

"I worked like a dog for ten years to amass
as much money as I could. I was lucky with real estate and other
investments, very lucky. Now I'm an investor, a partner in a small
company that backs new green ventures…like epublishing."

"That's admirable. Do you work…like a regular
job?"

"Not all day everyday anymore. We have a
small staff and every quarter we select a company to invest in. The
rest of the time we spend researching, interviewing and meeting
with principles in new start-up companies. When we have a company
we're serious about, work can get intense with long hours and many
meetings. I find it exciting helping new companies. We have slow
time, too. Sometimes I spend days and days doing nothing but
research…"

"Can't imagine you stuck with a computer or a
stack of papers and not out talking to people."

"I am a people guy but every business has its
downside. Tell me more about you."

"For instance?" she asked.

"Do you cook?"

"For one? Rarely."

"If you were…uh…more than one, would you
cook?"

"Depends. Maybe."

"What kind of home life did you have as a
kid?"

"My parents were successful. We never wanted
for anything, except their time. My parents were always busy, we
fended for ourselves…you've heard of latchkey kids?"

"Siblings?"

"A brother. You?"

"A brother and two sisters."

"Oldest?"

"No, second. Have an older sister."

"Close to your family?" she asked.

"Very. You?"

"Not so much. My parents live in Arizona, my
brother in Chicago."

"Did you celebrate holidays, have family
traditions?"

"Why all the questions? This feels like a job
interview…"

He looked down at the tablecloth and
blushed.

"Sounds like an interview for a wife," she
continued, her keen eyes searching his face.

"How do you feel about family? Want one? Want
kids?" He went on.

"Kids? Absolutely. Home life? Have always
wanted to create the one I never had. Hoping to have a Currier
& Ives Christmas someday…"she said, rather wistfully.

He grinned.

"And you?" She asked, turning her gaze on
him.

"I want it all," he said simply.

"The whole thing? Picket fence 2.3 kids,
two-car garage…"

"Kids, Christmas, house…everything…except
maybe the white picket fence…with the right woman," he
admitted.

"So…is this a job interview for a wife?" She
persisted.

He took a sip from his wine glass.

"Getting to know you, that's all. I take a
keen interest in all my dates," he said, sidestepping the
question.

She eyed him suspiciously when the waiter
arrived with their food.

"All your dates? And am I one of
many…hundreds…thousands?" she teased.

He laughed. "Right now, you're the one and
only." He put down his glass and his gaze met hers.

Good and let's keep it that way.
She
grinned at him.

****

Grey watched Carrie dig into her food
enthusiastically and felt happy he'd invited her. Obviously she
needed a good meal. He watched her face while they ate. With her
eyes on her food, he could study her without detection. Her oval
face had smooth, delicate skin with a slight blush in her cheeks.
Her nose was straight and grown-up looking, not one of those
baby-face noses sculpted by a plastic surgeon, her chin was strong
but feminine. Her honey hair with streaks of light blonde curled
slightly around her face softening her look. He was enchanted by
her natural beauty.

"This is delicious," she said, her mouth half
full.

He laughed. "Take it easy, no need to rush.
We have plenty of time."

"I'm starved. Do you want a taste? It's
incredible…" she offered.

He nodded. She picked up her knife to slice
off a piece for him, but he put his hand down over hers, stopping
her.

"Like this, from your mouth," he said,
leaning over and gently placing his lips on hers. His tongue barely
skimmed the surface of her lower lip, then her upper lip, tasting
the sauce still lingering there. Gently his lips coaxed hers open
and his tongue dipped in just far enough to share the taste of
chicken on hers. She closed her eyes.

Carrie didn't move, except for her chest,
which heaved with her rapid breathing, as his tongue took one last
gentle swipe over her lips then he sat up.

"Ummm. Delicious," he said, feeling his pulse
return to almost normal and a slight tingle in his lips as he sat
back in his seat.

As she sat there staring at him, color
started at her face and spread all the way down her chest. Grey
smiled at her, staring into her eyes as she sat, touching her
bottom lip with the tip of her tongue.

"No teasing me, now," Grey whispered,
glancing at her tongue. He returned his attention to his own meal,
picking up his knife and fork, slicing off a piece of meat and
putting it in his mouth.

Grey tried to concentrate on the meal, but
his eyes kept seeking hers, his gaze drifted to her cleavage more
times than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Watching her lips
consume the chicken gave him lustful thoughts. He wanted to touch
her in the worst way. Grey was a seasoned single man, one
attractive woman should not affect him like this, disrupting a
wonderful meal that passed into his stomach totally ignored by his
taste buds, which were mentally tasting Carrie instead.

"What?" She asked.

"Like to look at a beautiful woman," he
murmured.

She could be it. The one.
Just the
idea made him nervous with anticipation.
Don't jump the gun.
You've been close before. But I want it to be her.
Delightfully, she was quickly making progress on his list. Her
interest in creating a home intrigued him. But could she, would she
want to do it on her own? Much about Carrie remained to be seen but
he especially looked forward to exploring the last item on the list
with her. He obsessed about her sexual appetite, crowding all other
thoughts out of his mind. Would they be sexually compatible? It was
all he could think about. The trick was not to start exploring that
idea while still in the restaurant.

Chewing on the last piece of chicken, she
looked at him again and cocked her head.

"Nothing. It is a crime to admire you?"

"It's a
little
more than admiration,
Grey. I feel like your eyes are burning a hole in my…in my…"She
blushed.

He simply had to touch her.

"I'll behave," he interrupted, pushing a lock
of hair away from her face.

"Good."

Is that a strike against her? She doesn't
want to flirt or be sexy with me? We're in a restaurant, maybe
she's a private person and if we were alone…maybe she would…

"More wine, Monsieur?" The waiter asked.

Grey shook his head and raised his eyes to
hers just in time to catch her looking at his lips.
Ah, too soon
to call.

They finished dinner and returned to the car
which would take them to the ballet. They had twenty-five minutes
before curtain time. Grey was out of patience denying his libido.
He pulled Carrie into his arms for an ardent kiss. He started
slowly, nibbling on her lower lip, while his hand rested on her
neck, his thumb feeling her pulse quicken. He worked her mouth with
his tongue. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling her closer to
him as a soft moan escaped from her mouth. Her response fueled his
desire. The more she melted in his arms, the more he wanted
her.

The kissing got intense and his hand moved up
to her breast. He squeezed gently and she groaned, a little too
loudly. The sound brought Grey back to Earth. He removed his hand
and sat back. The chauffeur checked in his rearview mirror and
blushed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken…have…done
that," he breathed, wondering if she could tell he was getting
hard.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath, her
gaze dropping down to her hands. He leaned over to whisper in her
ear, "I find you so attractive…I can't help myself."

She reached up and touched his face, her gaze
searching his. He saw disbelief in her eyes and wanted to reassure
her.

"This isn't a line to get you into bed. We
couldn't tonight even if you wanted to…I know you have to go back
to the office after the ballet. I'm not setting you up. I find
you…amazing. Is that bad?" He asked.

She pulled him down for a sweet kiss, which
he deepened easily. She tasted so good and smelled fresh and sweet,
like lilacs. He ripped his mouth from hers and took a nibble of her
neck. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as his lips traveled
down then back up her neck leaving soft kisses. Before he could
make another assault on her mouth, the car came to a stop.

"We're here, sir," the driver said loudly,
after clearing his throat.

Grey looked up, almost sorry to see they had
arrived at the ballet. He sat back, straightened his tie and jacket
while Carrie tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her dress and
replenish her lipstick. The driver came around and opened the
door.

"Handkerchief," she demanded, extending her
hand.

Grey pulled out his handkerchief and handed
it to her. She carefully and gently wiped the lipstick from his
mouth and cheek, then handed the white cloth back to him. He smiled
at her.

He maneuvered Carrie in front of him to hide
his erection, hoping it would disappear quickly. His strong
reaction puzzled him. He hadn't known Carrie long and though she
was beautiful and sexy, his response was more than usual in this
situation. His reaction to Carrie stunned him.

They got out of the car with Grey angling
Carrie so she was blocking his private parts from view. He relaxed
as they walked toward the door, fishing in his breast pocket for
the tickets.

"I love the ballet. This will be so relaxing
for me," she said, squeezing his arm.

Not so relaxing for me, sitting next to you,
wanting to touch you, forced to sit still and keep my hands to
myself.

****

Carrie slipped her hand into Grey's, smiling
up at him as she walked into the lobby of the theater at Lincoln
Center. The fountains spouted water into the air as spotlights made
it shine. The three beautiful buildings houses concert, theater and
ballet performances, all glass fronted looked glamorous. A sense of
anticipation of splendid performances to come was almost palpable.
Her face was warm from their passion in the car; in fact her whole
body felt tingly and alive. His touch, his lips were like magic and
when he put his hand on her breast, she thought she was going to
pass out as the fire of her desire seemed to consume her. If their
destination had been twenty miles out of town, she knew she would
have succumbed to him in the back seat with a stranger at the
wheel.
How embarrassing, where's your self- control?