Desire: Love and Passion - By Lesia Reid Page 0,16
should go."
His lips brushed against hers before he kissed her on her forehead.
"Can we meet for dinner on Friday?"
"If you promise to play nice," she said.
"I'll try."
Chapter 6
"You made up," Nancy said walking into Willow's office on Friday afternoon.
"What makes you think I made up with anyone," Willow replied without looking away from her computer.
"This."
Willow looked up. Her friend was holding a small neat red bag.
"That could be from anyone."
Willow took the small gift bag from her friend. She pulled out a six by six box from the bag, along with a small card. She put the box on the table and looked at the card.
It read; I want you to know I still know how to romance and have every intention of romancing you. There is a slight change in my schedule. I am afraid I cannot make our dinner arrangements for this evening. Accept this gift as a tiny token of how I will make this up to you. Still waiting for a reply - J.
"Open the box." Nancy was dancing on one leg.
"Perhaps it's for you," Willow said. "You’re awfully excited."
"I’m so glad you’re dating again. I was beginning to think you were going to die an old maid. It's been over seven months since you broke up with David."
"I am glad at least one of us is counting," Willow said as she pulled the bow on the box.
Nancy and Willow had been friends since they first met at Cambridge University. Nancy was the grounded one who’d completed her Bachelors and Masters degrees in the time it had taken Willow to finally settle and complete her Bachelors’ degree. Willow spent a year in pre-med. Then she spent another in pre-law and yet another in political science before deciding to settle on photography and marketing.
Now she watched as her friend snatched up the card.
“This is expensive stationary,” Nancy said. “Did you meet some oil tycoon?”
“No.”
“Who is he?”
“None of your business,” Willow said.
“Oh, he’s married,” Nancy said. “That’s got to be the only reason you wouldn’t tell me, you home wrecker you,” Nancy teased.
“He’s single,” Willow said.
“Just tell me, who is it?”
“James Monroe?”
“What?” Nancy shrieked. “The James Monroe as in Ambassador James Monroe? James Monroe the billionaire and most eligible bachelor in the world?”
“You can’t tell anyone,” Willow said. “Not even Richard.”
Richard was Nancy’s husband.
“When did this happen? How did it happen?”
“Remember I told you I was in an accident on Saturday? He was the other driver.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No.”
“Is he as handsome in person?”
“Oh he is most definitely as handsome,” Willow said. “And super sexy.”
“And he likes you?”
Willow nodded.
“Do you like him?” Nancy asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean I’m attracted to him, but that could be seven months of being single talking.”
“You are talking about James Monroe, who cares if it’s hormones or pheromones?”
Willow opened the small package revealing a box of expensive chocolate truffles. "Do you want to try one?"
"I would love to," Nancy plucked a truffle from the box. "I'm in heaven."
Willow chuckled at her friend.
“I've got to get back to work,” Willow said. “Ads don't magically make themselves.”
“Don’t let him slip away,” Nancy advised as she exited the office.
Willow did not try the treats herself. She covered the box and returned both it and the card to the small gift bag. James was right about one thing. There was chemistry between them, but Willow knew it was much more than that. With him everything felt familiar. When he touched her, it was as if he knew exactly how and where to touch her. He knew the things she found endearing and attractive. Being with him felt exciting and new, yet familiar and safe.
Her telephone rang. She picked it up willing her thoughts back to work.
“They tell me I can use the telephone now,” he said.
“James? Where are you?”
“On my way to Switzerland. A last minute deal came through.”
“Oh. I got your apology.”
“Do you like it?”
“I haven't tried it,” she admitted.
“Not your thing? I had you pegged for a chocolate lover.”
“I do love chocolate. I'll have some later after a long, hot bath."
“You make me want to turn this plane around.”
“Alone,” she added.
“Have you thought about my question?”
"No," she lied because she had thought of little else.
“I guess I have to work harder at changing your mind. I get back late Saturday. Let's talk over lunch on Sunday.”
He didn't wait for her to respond before hanging up. Clever, she thought though she really wanted to see him again.
Her doorbell rang insistently. Willow looked across to