***
To Annabelle, the beginning of date number five was as poetic as Duncan had described. Her mouth watered when she opened the door to find him looking ridiculously handsome in a traditional blue blazer and gorgeous lavender Façonnable shirt and tie. She’d worn her hair up just in case he did bring her favorite flower, so she was delighted when he presented her with a gardenia, and promptly added it to her coiffure. Their elegant circular booth at The Capital Grille was cozy and secluded with an already decanted bottle of Rubicon cabernet awaiting their arrival. When she found the second gardenia artistically arranged among the votive candles, she fell in love. And as they sat side by side, enjoying a glass of wine after first indulging in a Stoli Doli, Capital Grille’s signature cocktail, Annabelle was smiling inside and out because Duncan James couldn’t keep his hands off her.
“When I first saw you tonight…” Duncan whispered, kissing the indentation beneath her ear, his fingers brushing tendrils of hair back from her neck, “you took my breath away.” His mouth trailed down her throat. “You’d think I’d get used to it because it happens every time I see you.” He brushed his lips and tongue over the tender spot at the base of her neck that so fascinated him. “Annabelle,” he breathed, “I’ve been longing to bite you right here ever since New Year’s Eve.”
She tipped her head giving him better access, pressing a hand against his thigh in response to the heat and sensation. “That’s good to know,” she whispered. “I worried I may have been too forward.”
He choked a stilted laugh and sat up, handing over her wine glass. “Finish your wine,” he said. “I have a confession to make.”
She eyed him suspiciously, taking a sip. “Is it so bad you have to ply me with fabulous wine? I know you’re not married,” she teased. But as their waiter approached, Duncan silently waved him off. That’s when her stomach sank. “Okay, now I’m getting worried.”
“I want to straighten out a misconception, before…before we…you know.”
“Have sex,” she supplied.
Duncan leveled her with that reprimanding stare. The one that let her know she was precariously close to crossing a line. His body became a fortress. One strong arm resting across the booth behind her, his broad shoulders hemming her in at the side, and his other arm tense on the table in front of her. He spoke in that quiet no-nonsense baritone that made her insides weep with longing and anticipation.
“Annabelle.” God, she loved how he said her name. “Every word I told you in your car New Year’s Eve was true. I wanted a second date. I wanted a chance at a relationship. I did not want a one-night stand.” His upper body angled closer, causing her heart to pound. His gaze drifted to her mouth for a moment, then back to her eyes. “But with you on my lap, I was perfectly willing to take advantage of the situation anyway.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “At one point, all I could think about was stripping you naked and,”––his gaze dropped briefly to her thighs––“sliding you down onto me.”
Her eyes went wide as every bit of pent-up desire slid south and turned hot and moist. Her breath caught in her chest, her heart pounding enough to make her pulse points throb. She licked her lips and Duncan leaned closer.
“The truth is, the only thing that stopped me was that I couldn’t find the zipper on your gown. It was much later that night when I realized the damn thing zipped up the side.”
The sexual tension was too taut for her to laugh. The only thing she could think to say was, “Oh?”
Duncan eyed her mouth again before leaning back. “I got frustrated when I couldn’t find the zipper,” he said, moving his hand off the table and on to her thigh, “and that made me stop and realize where we were heading. I didn’t want to give you the impression that sex was all I wanted. I didn’t want to do anything to embarrass you or make you want to avoid me the next morning. But the point is,” he said eyeing her heavily, “had the zipper been in the back where it normally is, I wouldn’t have stopped. And this whole five date rule? Complete bullshit.”
Annabelle felt her head nodding but her mind had shut down after the words “sliding you down onto me.” With her body vibrating so intensely, the only thing she could think about was how she had to tell him the truth about how they met. Her heart squeezed at the thought of his rejection. God, she didn’t want to ruin this.
Finding no way to avoid the inevitable, she finally pointed to his glass of wine. “Drink up,” she insisted.
Duncan looked a little stunned. A little confused.
“Drink up,” she repeated, motioning him toward the wine with her hand. “Because if that’s the extent of your confession, I assure you it’s a sonnet compared to what I have to tell you.”
“Tell me?” he questioned, releasing her thigh and reaching for his glass. “Wait! Before you say anything. Are we good? I mean, are you okay with what I just said?”
She licked her lips and leaned in to kiss him, whispering, “I’m very okay with everything you just said.”
His relief turned into a big, sultry grin. “Okay then.” He took up his wine and downed what was left like it was cheap beer at a keg party, then all but smacked his glass on the table. “Your turn.”
Tears threatened as Annabelle described how her father had overheard Brooks bet Duncan he couldn’t give her a speeding ticket. How he’d come home that night and told her all about it. And then how he’d recommended she play along so she could meet Duncan and see if he was the kind of guy she’d be interested in.
While Annabelle talked, she saw Duncan’s expression shift the moment he figured out where her story was heading. He sat there in silence through its entirety, staring at her. When he started to drum his fingers on the table, she wrapped it up, figuring no amount of talking was going to put the cat back in the bag.
“Are you done?” he said, his eyebrows lifting. Annabelle nodded a weak little nod, terrified of his next words.
Duncan turned to the waiter hovering in the distance. “Check, please.”
“Oh my God. Duncan, no!” Annabelle pleaded, throwing her hands up to his shoulders trying to turn him around to look at her. “Please, don’t be mad…” she went on, becoming aware of a suspicious shaking under her hands as he turned around. Laughing.
She threw him her very best pout, but he said, “You deserved that. You and your father. I cannot believe I was set up.”
“Believe it,” she groaned. “And it was brilliant…all except for the part where I started to fall for you. Then it became weird and twisted and this big fat lie that I had to live with—”
She saw the poor waiter scurry off again as Duncan pulled her close and shut her up with one long, hard kiss. Her toes literally curled. “You started to fall for me?” he asked against her lips, sounding very pleased.
Annabelle simply nodded against him.
“Okay, then. How ’bout that steak?”