The Promise of Change - By Rebecca Heflin Page 0,49

crook of his arm, “The cobblestones are a bit wonky along the walk,” he said by way of explanation.

Since the play had just let out, there were many couples walking hand-in-hand on the sidewalks, along with some families, among the assortment of people enjoying Stratford this mild evening.

They walked for a few minutes talking about the play.

Music spilled out into the street from one of the pubs featuring live music. The singer was quite good. He sang a popular American song. Alex asked if Sarah would like to go in and have a glass of wine.

They found a small table in the front by the door. Just as he had done all week, Alex pulled out Sarah’s chair for her. The smiling waitress came over and they each ordered a glass of wine and then sat in silence for a few minutes just listening to the song.

As the song came to its end, the waitress brought their wine. “You’re Alex Fraser, er, Lord Rutherford, right? The bartender, Vicki, said no, but . . .”

Alex looked up, and confirmed her suspicions. “Did you have money on it? If so, you can tell your friend to pay up.”

She blushed shyly and hurried back to her friend to proclaim her victory.

“‘May you be merry and lack nothing,’” he said, quoting, appropriately enough, Shakespeare.

After the toast, they turned their attention back to the entertainment and sipped their wine. Sarah was unfamiliar with the next song, but Alex seemed very familiar with it, as he tapped his fingers on the table to the upbeat tempo.

It was followed by another American song, slow and romantic. Sarah could feel Alex’s eyes on her.

He stood up and held his hand out to her. “Dance with me?”

She smiled up at him as she placed her hand in his, and let him lead her out to the small area set aside for dancing, where a few other couples swayed to the music.

Alex pulled her to him, wrapping one arm around her waist, as he placed his other hand on her bare back, bringing her even closer. Her skin was as smooth as warm satin beneath his hand, her body as supple as a ballerina’s in his arms.

The hand on her back was strong and protective. She laid her head on his chest, while he gently rested his chin on her hair.

It seemed like a lifetime since she’d felt the combination of both joy and contentment of being in someone’s arms.

They began the slow, swaying motion of a couple more interested in holding each other close than in actually dancing.

His hand drifted up the back of her neck and lingered there, gently caressing the curls that escaped her clip.

The song ended far too soon. He stepped back, tilted her chin up, and, searching her face, twisted a stray tendril of hair around his finger. Brushing his knuckles across her cheek, he looked down at her lips, which were slightly parted in surprise, before bending down to kiss her tenderly on the lips.

She hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath, until it escaped on a sigh.

“Shall we go? I have a big day planned for us tomorrow, so we need to get you back and into bed.” He stammered as soon as the words left his mouth. “I mean — I didn’t — that came out wrong. I meant that it’s getting late and you should go to bed, not that we should go to bed. Well, not that I wouldn’t want to join you—bloody hell! I just need to stop talking.” He smiled sheepishly.

He didn’t know why the unintended double-entendre had him as nervous as a school boy. Any other woman and he’d have played the rogue to the hilt.

He was not the only one flustered. Sarah could feel the heat in her face, and it wasn’t righteous indignation she felt. Her heart skipped a beat when he referred to getting into bed. The idea was far from unpleasant. Obviously, since one of her first thoughts upon seeing him when they met involved a rumpled bed. Hers.

“It’s—it’s okay,” she stammered. “I didn’t think anything of it. I mean, not that the thought of going to bed with you— Now I just need to stop talking.” It was her turn for the sheepish smile.

He chuckled. “Let’s go before we say anything else that leads to a stammered and ineffective explanation.” He walked back to the table, threw a bill down for the wine, picked up her bag and handed it to