She thought about Erik while she ate dinner, and while putting her dishes in the dishwasher. Drat the man; no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get him, or the sensual allure of his voice, out of her head. She tried to tell herself he couldn't be as gorgeous as she remembered, that his voice hadn't been that deep, that his touch hadn't been any different from any other man's. But to no avail.
Irritated with herself because she couldn't concentrate on anything else, she decided the only solution was to see him again and prove to herself that she had exaggerated the comeliness of both his appearance and his appeal. With that thought in mind, she changed into a pair of navy slacks and a white sweater and headed for the Crypt.
The nightclub was even more crowded tonight than it had been on Friday. Every booth was taken; the dance floor was jam packed; it was standing room only at the bar.
Daisy walked around the edge of the club, her gaze sweeping the sea of humanity, when her good sense returned. What on earth was she doing here, looking for some man she knew nothing about? And what if he was as drop-dead gorgeous as she remembered? She had met lots of good-looking men. Even dated a few. If there was one thing she had learned, it was that a handsome visage didn't always guarantee a pleasing personality.
With a shake of her head, Daisy started toward the exit. For months, her mother had been trying to set her up with "a nice young man." Irene O'Donnell had met Kevin O'Reilly at the local pub last Saint Patrick's Day and was convinced that Kevin was the perfect man for her only daughter.
Daisy sighed. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe it was time to leave LA, go back to Boston, meet Mr. Perfect, settle down, and give her parents grandchildren.
And maybe not.
She was almost at the door when a deep male voice sounded from behind her.
"I was hoping to see you again."
Seven words that made Daisy's heart skip a beat and stirred a slow heat in the pit of her stomach that quickly ignited an answering fire in her loins. Flushed with anticipation, her handbag clutched tightly in one hand, she turned, ever so slowly, to face him.
He was just as handsome as she remembered. His eyes were just as dark, his smile just as devastating. Tonight he wore a thigh-length black leather coat over a dark green shirt and khaki pants.
Canting his head to one side, he held out his hand. "I think they're playing our song."
She hadn't even realized the band was playing, or that it was the same tune they had performed the night before. With no thought to refuse, Daisy dropped her handbag on a recently vacated table, then stepped into Erik's embrace as if she had been doing it all her life. The music was slow, with a deeply sensual beat that made her think of sweat-slick flesh and satin sheets.
Erik's gaze warmed her cheeks, and when he drew her body against his, every rational thought fled her mind. As she had the night before, Daisy followed his lead as if they had danced together a hundred times instead of only two. He was remarkably light on his feet for such a big man. Once, she glanced down to make sure his feet were touching the floor.
Daisy searched her mind for something witty to say to break the taut silence between them, but to no avail. She couldn't think coherently, not when he was holding her so close. He smelled of sandalwood and leather, two scents she knew she would forever associate with him in the future.
The song ended and another began.
His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her closer. "You never told me your name."
"What? Oh, it's Daisy."
A slow smile spread over his lips. "Daisy," he murmured with a nod. "A fair flower indeed."
His compliment as much as his smile brought a warm flush to her cheeks. His hand moved lightly up and down her spine, eliciting tiny sparks of excitement.
When the music ended, he led her off the dance floor. After retrieving her handbag, he led her toward the back of the club, obviously in search of an empty booth. There were none. Holding Daisy's hand, Erik stopped beside a booth occupied by two middle-aged men in business suits. No words were exchanged, but the men took one look at Erik and practically tripped over their feet as they vacated the booth and hurried away.
Daisy looked at Erik, wondering if she had missed something.
"After you," he said, gesturing for her to take a seat.
"I really can't stay," Daisy remarked as she scooted into the booth.
"Sure you can." His dark eyes glowed with amusement as he slid in beside her. "After all, you came here looking for me, didn't you?"
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. "Of course not!"
He lifted one expressive black brow. "No?"
"No."
"All right, little flower. Have it your way."
"You didn't come here looking for me, did you?"