Desire's Edge Read Free

Married?”
    “No, I’ve never been married. And I’m . . . on my own.”
    “Ah.” She felt awkward, suddenly. She usually had no trouble talking to people. She considered herself outgoing. She was a trial lawyer, for God’s sake! Why couldn’t she put two sensible sentences together?
    “Kara, am I making you uncomfortable? I don’t mean to ask such personal questions. It’s just been so long since I’ve seen you. I’d really like to catch up.”
    “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” She let out a small laugh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve had a little too much wine, maybe.” It was a lie—she still felt only the slightest hint of a buzz—but a convenient excuse. “I’d like to catch up, too.”
    He smiled at her, his dimples creasing his cheeks, making her pulse race once more. Then he reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers over her wrist, almost absentmindedly. Except that when she looked up at him, he was watching her, that golden gaze on hers. There was an odd expression on his face, and it took her a moment to recognize the naked desire there. And even through her clothes she swore she could feel his heat, arcing like a small shock from his hand through her arm.
    She pulled in a breath, dizzy with sensation.
    This cannot be happening.
    Except that it was.
    It was just chemistry. She’d had a crush on him for years, and now here he was, as if by magic. Looking better than ever. And he was nice. Smart. Easy to talk to. It was a perfectly normal response. Any woman would have to be blind and completely frigid not to respond to Dante De Matteo.
    She was pretty sure he had never touched her before. She wanted him to do it again.
    She focused on his mouth for a moment, then lifted her gaze back to his. Oh yes, hunger there. And something else . . . like an unasked question.
    She swallowed, looked away into the darkness of the yard, and beyond it to the street, the amber glow of the streetlights illuminating the fog.
    “Kara? Did I say something wrong?”
    She turned back to him. “What? No, of course not. It’s just . . . it’s a little strange, seeing you again.”
    “Yes. Strange, but good.”
    He smiled, a thousand-watt smile. There was invitation there.
    She was beginning to forget exactly why she’d sworn off men. It wasn’t as though she was going to get involved with Dante. She was definitely not in the market for a relationship. And she was no shrinking violet. Maybe it was time for her self-imposed dry spell to end. If he was interested and she was interested, then she didn’t see anything wrong in a little flirtation. Maybe leading to something more . . .
    She watched him watching her. And was glad she was a habitual lingerie girl. She decided then that if the evening ended with her taking Dante home with her, perhaps that was better than sitting around feeling sorry for herself. And with Dante around, there would be nothing to be sorry for.
    She smiled back, letting her own invitation reach her eyes.
     
     
    Eyes like they were made of metal. Silver and gold and edged in green . . .
    Dante felt stunned by her. He hadn’t seen her for twelve years, yet his body was responding exactly the way it had when he was a teenager. His pulse was hot, racing. He had to force down the arousal in his system, try not to get hard. But the girl he’d dreamed about through the last two years of high school was sitting right next to him.
    He remembered suddenly the shock on her face when he’d punched out that punk Brady Metcalf. And the way that shock had warmed into a brilliant smile, just for him. That had made it worth it—getting suspended in the final week of his senior year. He’d have done it anyway. Brady was getting rough with her, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have let anything happen to her. But he’d never forgotten that smile . . .
    She’d been too young then, and he’d never pursued anything with her. She was still in high school while he was getting ready to