Desire: Love and Passion - By Lesia Reid Page 0,18

to add?”

“No, that’s it.”

“How do you expect me to go through lunch thinking about you in the latter?”

“The same way I’m going through lunch thinking you needed more room in your jeans.”

He laughed now.

“How can you possibly be single?” he asked.

“I wasn’t always this person.”

“What is this person?”

“Free,” she said. “Free.”

Something in her voice told him that there would be no more explanation. So he didn’t push.

"Have you thought about my proposal?" He cut into a thick piece of steak.

"Yes, and the answer is no," Willow replied.

"So, we’re going to do this the old fashion way?"

"Didn't you hear the part where I said, no?"

"Your lips said no, but when I touch you all I hear is yes. Is there a reason for your no?"

"Yes."

"I'm listening," he said.

"Dating sets the stage for longer relationships. I don’t want that. I don’t want any commitment of any sorts. So I have a counter proposal. It’s obvious we have some chemistry between us, so rather than invite me to lunch next time, how about some wine, candles and a box of condoms? It may very well be that once the deed is done all this chemistry will simply fizzle away."

Her jaw-dropping proposal stunned him for a few moments. James had a few one-nighters beneath his belt. It was part and parcel of being rich and famous. He had never asked another woman to be his permanent partner since coming back to England. He knew each lover hoped he would comeback more, regardless of his honesty. Here, he was telling her she could have more. She could have him all to herself if she wanted to. In his experience, women were always interested in more than just one night. They like the emotions, the soft stuff. She was different, though. Maybe that was what she meant by free.

“Wow,” he said. “I’ll have to think about that.”

“Okay, good. How was your trip to Switzerland?”

He was amazed at the ease at which she changed the subject. It was as if okay, first business is over, let’s move on.

They talked politics and current affairs during the rest of lunch. James was pleasantly surprised by how in-depth her historical knowledge was. She probably knew as much about politics as he did. It was refreshing not having to explain many of the little things.

"How were the chocolate truffles?" he asked as they later sat in a large rocker on the deck. She was having her third cup of coffee and he was having a beer.

"I haven't tried them as yet," Willow said.

"I will never buy you chocolate again," he said.

“Never say never,” she replied. “Sweets and I have a wonderful arrangement that keeps the waistline small. There’s never more than an ounce or two in the house.”

“So our next date is wine, candles, and condoms,” he said.

"Are you agreeing then?"

"I like where the wine, candles, and condoms lead, but, what if after our first go, we haven't fizzled out? What then?"

"Some chemical reactions take longer to achieve the required results."

James laughed remembering her other clinical definition of their attraction.

"So this could be more than a one night deal?" he asked.

"Sure."

"Now I can't wait for our next date."

"Well, you’ll just have to. I have a tough schedule for the next few weeks."

"Ah, you are such a tease," he groaned.

Chapter 7

For the next ten days they spoke only by telephone. She never called first and never mentioned seeing him again. Following her cue, he too never mentioned their agreement.

"Bugger!" she swore on Wednesday evening as a flat tire grinned at her from under the Jaguar. "Damn it!"

She looked at her watch. It was half past nine. Willow pulled out her mobile and scanned through her contacts for Michel. His telephone started ringing before she remembered he was in Paris. She hung up. She would have called Nancy but with kids and husband it seemed unfair to drag her back to work.

Willow thought about calling a cab or taking a bus. The cab might be okay, except getting out tomorrow morning also meant calling a cab. The bus was not a bad idea, except the closet stop to her location was quite a ways on foot. She pulled Larry's card from her purse. He answered on the second ring.

"Yes." He made it sound as if he was being disturbed.

"This is Willow Barnes," she said in a crisp voice. "You asked me to call if I needed help. I have a flat and I'm at my office. Can you help?"

"Certainly." This time he sounded