almost touching. Would he try to kiss her? Should she let him? He was a stranger. The thought made her feel suddenly vulnerable and she let go of his hand. There was no one else in sight. It was dark, and they were alone, quite alone.
"Marisa." Just her name, nothing more.
His eyes were as black as ebony, enigmatic in the light of the moon. Hypnotic eyes that seemed to be as deep as the ocean; eyes that could see into the most intimate part of her soul, divine her innermost secrets, grant her every wish if she just let herself fall into their depths.
She blinked up at him, feeling suddenly lightheaded. "We... ah, we should go back," she stammered. "It's getting late."
"If you wish, cara."
What was there about his eyes, his voice, that captivated her so? It was easy to believe he was a magician. He certainly seemed to be casting a spell over her.
She stared up at him, relieved that he hadn't kissed her, disappointed that he hadn't even tried.
"Cara?"
It was wrong. It was foolish. Maybe the most foolish thing she had ever done, yet she leaned toward him, her face uplifted, her heart beating a crazy rhythm she had never heard before as he bent down and captured her lips with his.
She had been kissed before, and often, but never like this. There were no words to describe the incredible wonder of his kiss, nothing in her past experience to compare it to. It was as if he had invented something entirely new, something no one had ever thought of before. As if he had taken a simple kiss and reinvented it. And he wasn't even holding her in his arms, wasn't touching her at all except for his lips pressed to hers.
When he drew back, she felt as if someone had stolen the strength from her limbs, the stars from the sky, the very breath from her body.
Bereft, she stared up at him. Almost, she asked him what he had done, what it was they had shared. But she didn't know how to ask such a question without sounding either incredibly stupid or incredibly naive.
"Come," Grigori said, offering her his hand. "I'll take you home." Now, he thought, before it is too late. For both of us.
"What? Oh, yes, home."
Feeling dazed, she put her hand in his. They didn't say much on the way home. She was acutely aware of his nearness, of his hand holding hers. His grip was gentle; his footsteps seemed extraordinarily light for such a big man. She had the fleeting impression that he was floating over the sidewalk.
All too soon, they reached her apartment building.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked as they walked up the stairs.
"Perhaps."
"Oh." She opened the door, and then glanced over her shoulder. "Well, good night." "
Buono notte, cara."
"Good night."
She stood looking up at him, wondering if he would kiss her again. For a moment, she thought he would. Hoped he would. Prayed he would.
Instead, he bowed over her hand. "Thank you for walking with me, Marisa."
"I enjoyed it, too."
She waited another moment; then, with a smile, she stepped inside and closed the door. It was probably just as well he hadn't kissed her again, she mused as she got ready for bed. If one kiss could affect her like that, she didn't even want to think what making love to him would be like.
But later, lying in her bed, unable to sleep, she could think of nothing else.
She couldn't think of anything else at work the next day, either. Staring at her computer, all she could see were Grigori's depthless black eyes. She recalled the sound of his voice when he called her cara, the incredible touch of his lips against hers. Just thinking about it made her feel warm and tingly all over.
Later, fighting the traffic on the freeway, she could hardly remember how she had gotten through the day.
At home, she changed into jeans and a Jekyll and Hyde sweatshirt, then went into the kitchen. Rummaging in the fridge for something to eat, she was still thinking of Grigori, of the strange effect his nearness had on her. It was more than just his good looks. His voice, perhaps? She had never known a man with such a deep, rich baritone. But even as she considered it, she knew it was more than that. There was something about the man himself. He radiated... what? Charm? Charisma?
She shook her head as she ladled fruit salad into