brief second—seemed to be considering it.
"No, we have a staff meeting this afternoon. And I have book orders to review."
"Well, surely they'll understand if you—"
Marie stole a glance at her watch. "Oh my gosh, it's eleven-forty! David, we'd better get the check and get going."
Well, he thought, pulling out his wallet. He could never be accused of not trying.
The idea of a whole uninterrupted day with Marie McCloud tantalized David with all kinds of possibilities. He could create opportunities to get close to her and—
"Ready?" she asked, polishing off her coffee.
But, at that very moment, David feared that rising from the table would show her precisely how ready he was.
"Can you give me another minute?" he asked, stalling for time.
And then he called over the waitress and asked for a very tall, very cold glass of water.
Chapter Eight
David pulled out of the Books & Bistro parking lot, thinking things had gone exceptionally well. There had definitely been some body-talking going on between them. And, no matter how abruptly Marie had wanted to leave, David couldn't help but believe that part of the reason she'd wanted to go had to do with her growing attraction to him. He'd seen it in her eyes, sensed it in the air between them at the outdoor picnic. Even that day in the park, there'd been a spark of something mixed with an admirable ire. Boy, she was a hot one. But impossible to pin down.
No, not impossible, David told himself. Nothing was impossible right up until the point you gave up trying.
What David needed, he decided, was a new angle. That book angle he'd been working on. He was sure that's what had been holding Marie back. Idle conversation and casual picnics weren't enough for a brainy woman like her. Cecil had been absolutely right. The mind link was what David needed to establish. He knew it was a little deceptive, given his honest aversion to what he'd been reading—one of Cecil's recommendations. But, in the end, it would hardly matter. He and Marie were meant for each other. David just knew it.
The literary connection would be just the beginning. After that, he was certain they'd find other things they could talk about. Other hobbies and ideals they shared. This was just too powerful, just too earth-shaking to mean nothing but sex.
David wanted more.
Now that he'd finally finished that damned book, all he'd have to devise was a creative way to...
David signaled for a turn then let out a cry. He slammed his palm into the wheel and honked merrily at an unsuspecting passerby, as he maneuvered a quick U-turn.
Today was definitely his lucky day.
Marie closed the cover of Too Tempted Far Words and let out an audible sound that was half pant, half sigh. She didn't even know people had that much fun back then. But it certainly had left the heroine smiling.
"Marie?"
She looked up and realized her coffee had gone cold.
David held up one of her fleece-lined gloves.
"You left this on the seat of my car. Thought you might be wanting it later."
What Marie would be wanting later had nothing to do with putting things on, she realized with a jolt.
Ever since page one hundred and seventeen, every third description of this book's hero had seemed better suited to David than a sixteenth-century nobleman. Right down to his enticing... oh, never mind.
"Thanks," Marie said, biting her lip. "Didn't even realize it was gone. It must have slipped out of my pocket."
"Don't worry about it," David said, brightening the room with his smile.
All afternoon, it had been pouring, the small cafe shadowed and gloomy from the rain outdoors. But suddenly, it was all warmth and sunshine in here and Marie regretted that her coffee break had ended and it was time to get back to work.
"I'm sorry, David," she said, standing. "But I've got a staff meeting in five minutes."
"And afterwards?"
"And afterwards, I've got inventory. Cash register receipts. A chance to review the coming week's schedule—"
"Excuse me," David said, clearing his throat. "And just where does the fun get penciled in?"
"Fun?" Marie asked, clutching her book to her chest as if he could see right through its very cover and know exactly what she'd been reading.
"Oh David, I don't have time for..."
But the way that he looked at her told her that she did.
"We never did get to discuss that book," he persisted.
"Oh right, the book!" she said, relieved to be on a safe subject. Nobody could shake Marie McCloud when it came