A Thrill to Remember (13 page)

He realized he was jealous and there was no one to be jealous of. The room contained only the other dancers and the female instructor. No one else was peeking through the glass partition with him.

Cricket on a crutch! He was in deep, and like a quicksand victim, the harder he struggled the deeper he sank. He was falling for her. Fast.

And the misguided jealousy streaking through his heart told him he couldn’t fool himself any longer. The desire he felt for her went far beyond the physical. He’d been kidding himself when he decided making love to Meggie would once and forever quell his sexual fantasies about her.

What an idiot he’d been, thinking he could take this lightly and then just walk away.

Meggie executed a series of complicated shifts and steps that had Caleb almost swallowing his tongue. He found his own body swaying in time to the seductive Middle Eastern music seeping under the door and oozing out into the corridor. A mesmerizing sound that had him aching to dance with her. To press her body against his as they moved in tandem.

Stupid urge. He had no idea how to dance.

And yet here he was, his hands burning to touch that wavering waist, to grind his pelvis against those incredible, womanly hips.

The costume she wore was almost as provocative as the scintillating dance she performed. The silky material clung to her well-developed curves and rippled with a stimulating flow that incited his hormones to riot. And a filmy purple veil cloaked her mouth, hiding those full lips he loved so much and adding a tantalizing layer of mystery to her dance.

God, she was gorgeous. The memory of her scent came to him, clinging to his nostrils as surely as if she were standing next to him—the sweet, erotic elixir of lavender, strawberries and Obsession. He recalled the taste of her as well—hot, rich, creamy.

If he wasn’t careful he was going to start salivating right there on the spot.

He realized his palms were pressed against the glass, his eyes trained on her. He was a kid outside a toy store with no money in his pockets.

Why had she invited him here?

The thought struck him from the blue and the answer came to him.

This was another one of her fantasies, entitled Just Watch Me, or Let Me Drive You Wild. She was playing a game. Teasing and tantalizing him. But he didn’t think she’d been consciously aware of what she was doing when she had encouraged him to come by and pick her up. In fact, he knew that if he were to point out this astounding fact to her, not only would she deny it but she would probably get defensive.

This sudden insight into her psyche jerked like a string attached to his heart. There was only one reason why her subconscious would prod her to ask him to come to the dance studio so he would see her performing such a rousing routine in that electrifying costume. On some uncharted subterranean level she wanted him.

A surge of hope, more uplifting than he thought possible, rose inside him. A powerful updraft of expectancy that said yes, maybe he stood a chance of winning her over on his own—without that damned mask.

The music ended. Caleb shook his head, breaking from his reverie as he realized the dance class was over. The door opened and women began streaming out.

Meggie was the last one through the door, and the minute she spotted him, her face lit up with a smile that twinkled like the myriad of holiday decorations the Scofields had put up around their house every winter when he and Meggie were kids. His own parents had been too busy marrying and divorcing to bother much with Christmas ornamentation.

Her excited expression underscored his hope. Caleb was jubilant. He wanted to dance a jig right there in the hallway with her classmates streaming around them. He wasn’t wrong on this matter and he knew it, even if Meggie wasn’t yet ready to admit to herself what game she was playing.

Did she suspect, at least on a subconscious level, that he was indeed Don Juan?

“Caleb!” She thrust herself into his arms for a quick hug.

The gossamer material of her outfit grazed his hand and spent a spark of awareness leaping up his nerve endings. She smelled of sweet perspiration and earthy woman, a scent that drove him to the very brink of distraction.

She stepped back. “Have you been here long?”

“A few minutes.”

She lowered her lashes, dabbed at her neck with a small, white gym towel. “Did you see me dance?”

Ah, coyness. This was a mating game, whether she would admit it or not.

What a rush.

“I saw you.” His tone was sexier than he intended, but dammit, he couldn’t help himself.

She lifted her head. Her green eyes were startled, her pupils wide.

She honestly doesn’t realize what she’s doing to me. This is all subconscious.

“You’re very good,” he said.

“Thank you. I really love to dance.”

“You could be a professional.”

“Nah. I’m a nurse at heart, but dancing is my passion.”

“I remember.”

“You do?”

Caleb stuffed his hands in his front pockets, mainly to keep himself from touching her. His fingers itched to trace the fabric of that sparkly costume and feel her body heat beneath.

“One year for your birthday—I think you were probably eight or nine—your mom got you that pink ballerina outfit and you spent the whole summer twirling up and down the streets of Bear Creek. I recall thinking you looked just like a stick of cotton candy.”

And, boy, how he loved cotton candy. He’d been stone-cold addicted to the stuff.

“You remember that? But you were only, what? Six, maybe seven?”

“I remember a lot of things, Meggie.”

She seemed flustered. Her cheeks darkened and she glanced away again, jerking a thumb in the direction of a door marked Ladies’ Locker Room.

“Listen, I’m going to go hit the showers and change. I’ll be ready to leave in about twenty minutes. Is that okay?”

He motioned to a nearby bench positioned beneath a bulletin board. “I don’t mind waiting. I’ll just have a seat. Take your time.”

“You’re a doll.”

She reached over to ruffle his hair in her irritatingly familiar fashion, but halfway to his head, she seemed to realize what she was doing, stopped and dropped her arm. Without another word, she turned and scurried into the locker room.

Grinning, he settled himself on the bench. Mark this day on the calendar, folks. Meggie Scofield had stopped ruffling his hair. One small step in the direction he wanted her to go, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to move faster. He needed a major weapon in his campaign to persuade Meggie to stop seeing him as just an old childhood friend and start picturing him as a potential lover.

What would it take to convince her?

He leaned his head back and collided with the bulletin board behind him. A pushpin fell from the cork, bounced off his head and skittered across the floor. An orange flyer swooped through the air and slid under the bench.

Caleb got up, retrieved the pushpin and fished under the bench for the flyer. He moved to tack it back to the bulletin board, but as he read the page, he stopped and an idea took shape.

SALSA CLASSES START FRIDAY.

Looking for an exciting new way to romance your ladylove? Try salsa dancing. She’ll be putty in your hands, guaranteed. Even if you’ve never danced a day in your life, our instructors, the renowned flamenco dancers Raul Roman and his lovely wife Luisa will have you doing the tango, the merengue, the cumbia and many more in a matter of ten easy lessons. Sign up in the office today!

Caleb stared at the flyer. It was as if the thing had been conjured up by divine intervention. He was looking for an exciting new way to romance his lady. And Meggie loved to dance.

Salsa dancing. It was the perfect solution to his dilemma.

Resolutely he pinned the flyer back to the bulletin board and went in search of the office.

WHY WAS HER PULSE hammering so hard? Meggie wondered as she stripped out of her belly dancing outfit and stepped into the shower.

Er…maybe because you spent the last fifty minutes belly dancing?

Ha! She wished.

Unfortunately, she had a sneaking suspicion her accelerated heart rate had nothing to do with exercise and everything to do with the way Caleb had been staring at her.

Don’t be silly. Don’t be ridiculous. Caleb wasn’t looking at you any differently than he’s ever looked at you.

And if by some chance he was looking at her differently, it was only because of her sexy costume. He was a normal red-blooded male. She was a skimpily dressed woman with a bare midriff. What did she expect?

She shouldn’t have asked him to pick her up at the dance studio, especially on a night they were performing a dress rehearsal for an upcoming competition. What had she been thinking?

Well, on the practical side, the studio was much closer to the Space Needle—where she’d intended on taking him for dinner—than her apartment. But if she were being honest with herself might she not admit that maybe, just maybe, she’d wanted Caleb to see her dancing in costume?

Why?

That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.

She shook her head to dispel the notion and concentrated on soaping down her body. As she scrubbed, she found her thoughts wandering back to Caleb.

He was such a great guy. Too bad he hadn’t been able to find the right woman, particularly after all his friends in Bear Creek had paired up with the ladies of their dreams. He had to be feeling left out.

She slid her hands down her body, lathering her belly and beyond. Her skin tingled where she touched. She was glad Caleb had come to Seattle. He had badly needed the vacation, time away from home. And she was happy she’d been able to show him the town. It’d been fun reconnecting with her old friend again.

And then without warning, an image popped into her mind that was anything but platonic. Meggie pictured Caleb right there in the shower with her. His hands were washing the triangle of hair between her legs. He was taking his long masculine fingers and slowly rubbing her in private places, stimulating her to a fevered pitch as she pressed herself into his hard, naked, wet body.

Yikes!

What in the hell was she thinking? Caleb was the guy next door, the kid she’d spent her summers playing hide and seek with. She should not be having these thoughts about him. Caleb simply was not fantasy material.

Oh yeah? I’ve seen you giving him the once-over. You can’t deny he’s gorgeous. Admit it, Meggie. Caleb grew up real nice.

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” Caleb asked as they left the dance studio. He’d just signed up for ten salsa lessons, and he could barely keep from grinning. Was Meggie ever going to be surprised when he took her salsa dancing.

“Seattle’s number one tourist attraction.”

“Which is?”

“The Space Needle, of course.”

“What?”

Balking, he stopped walking. He wasn’t sure Meggie knew of his fear of man-made heights, such as tall buildings, and he hated to admit a weakness, but the thought of going up to the Space Needle made his gut torque.

“I made reservations at SkyCity, the revolving restaurant at the Needle. They make a killer Dungeness crab cocktail, and their famous dessert, the Lunar Orbiter, is to die for. Afterward, I thought we could go up on the observation deck and gaze out at the city lights. I haven’t been up there in such a long time, I’m really looking forward to tonight.”

Caleb looked at her standing in the glow of the light from the dance studio and his heart slipped in his chest. She held her workout bag in one hand and her car keys in the other.

She wore a flowing rust-colored skirt, the hem just skimming the tops of her calf-high, brown leather boots, and a black long-sleeved Lycra top. She had a cream-colored sweater draped over her shoulders. Her short black hair, still damp from her shower, curled enticingly around her face. She had applied fresh lipstick, and a light dusting of mascara to her lashes, enhancing her natural prettiness without overdoing the cosmetics.

She wasn’t a raving beauty in the way of models and movie stars, but in his eyes, Meggie was the most gorgeous creature on the face of the earth. Just looking at her changed him in ways he could not verbally express. She made him want to spend less time alone in the wilderness and more time in the world with people. It was a strange sensation for an introvert, and he didn’t completely understand his new emotions.

Her smile encompassed her face and her green eyes came alive with excitement. If she wanted to go to the Space Needle, then, by damn, that’s where he would go. Phobia or not.

His bravado held until he was faced with climbing into the toothpaste-dispenser-size elevator at the Space Needle. At the entrance, they were greeted by a pleasant attendant who was extolling the virtues of the glass lift to a handful of other visitors.

“Time to face the fear, Greenleaf,” he growled.

“What?” Meggie blinked at him.

“All aboard,” the attendant announced, unclipping the velvet rope blocking the entrance to the elevator.

Caleb hung back.

“Come on.” Meggie smiled and took his hand.

You can do this. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just an elevator.

He took solace in the feel of Meggie’s warm palm pressed against his, and reluctantly stepped into the small glass cage. The attendant asked them to move farther back in order to make room for more people. Gritting his teeth, Caleb shifted toward the outer glass wall with a vertigo-inducing view of the ground below.

Up, up, up. The elevator moved with a series of jerky clicks. Was the damned thing suppose to be so noisy? It wasn’t natural for the scenery to blur so fast.

Take the risk. You can handle it. Not just for Meggie’s sake but also to prove to yourself that you’re not set in your ways. You can do different things. You can face your fears. You can adjust to life in the city.

Much to his relief they made it to the restaurant without incident. The hostess escorted them onto the rotating dais and they were seated at an intimate table for two with a spectacular view of Seattle.

He felt a little quivery, but took in a deep breath and managed to quell the jitters by gazing into Meggie’s face cast so beautifully in candlelight. He wasn’t going to let a bad childhood memory control his life.

“Isn’t this fabulous?” Meggie enthused, turning her head to look out the window and revealing the smooth expanse of her long, graceful neck.

“Yes,” he said.

But much more fabulous than the panorama below was the stunning view right across from him. Meggie beamed at him and he felt as if he’d been given the most precious of gifts.

He did as she suggested and ordered the crab. She chattered gaily and, it seemed, a little nervously, as if frightened to leave the opportunity for silence. Caleb wondered why. He and Meggie had sat in companionable silence many times before. It was one of the things he loved most about her. In the past, she’d waited patiently in the forest with him in the hopes of spotting a mama bear with her cubs or a bald eagle building a nest. Why this sudden need to fill the air with talk?

“What do you think of Seattle?” Meggie asked.

“It’s a very romantic place, as far as cities go. Of course, nothing can beat Bear Creek for sheer beauty.”

“Romantic?” There was laughter in her voice. “Can’t say I’ve ever thought of Seattle as romantic. Too much darn rain.”

“Rain can be sexy.”

“Oh?”

“Sure. Like the other night at your apartment. A roaring fire, good company, rain drumming seductively on the roof.”

“You thought that was romantic? Dear Caleb, you’ve got to get out more.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Is it?”

His gaze met hers. “Yep. I came to Seattle to explore the perimeters of romance.”

“Ah, now you’re pulling my leg.”

“A little,” he admitted, enjoying the teasing banter between. “But I confess—I am searching for something.”

He waited to see what she would say. He felt sexual chemistry shimmering between them, but he had to wonder if it was all in his imagination.

“Have you found what you’re looking for yet?”

“Maybe. I can’t say for sure.”

“Oh.”

He glanced at her. She was slowly scooting her food around on her plate.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head.

“Not still pining over this Don Juan guy?” he dared to inquire.

“Nah,” she muttered, but dropped her gaze.

“You’ve beaten your obsession?”

“Yes. Talking about it with you the other night helped immensely. Thanks.”

He wasn’t sure that he believed her. Something was different between them and he didn’t know what. Or why.

The waiter cleared their dinner plates, brought coffee, two spoons and one serving of the spectacular Lunar Orbiter dessert, which turned out to be a massive ice cream concoction delivered with fanfare amid swirls of dry ice to simulate Seattle fog.

She scooped up a spoonful of ice cream. Caleb’s gaze tracked her movements, fixating on her lips as she daintily slid the cold ice cream into her warm, wet mouth.

“Mmm,” she moaned, soft and low.

When she flicked out her tongue to whisk away a drop of melted ice cream from her bottom lip, he shivered so hard he felt it straight down through his bones.

“Caleb, are you okay?”

Easy, Greenleaf. You’re going to give this gig away before you have a chance to put Operation Salsa Dancing in action.

“Yeah…I—” His voice cracked. “Uh…”

Oh, that was about as smooth as gravel.

She reached out and placed her hand over his. “Is something wrong?”

Other than the fact that her touch was causing him to get a high-voltage hard-on?

“Fine,” he lied. “Absolutely fine.”

They lingered for a while, talking softly, enjoying the city lights, savoring the dessert. Meggie tried to pay for the meal, and when Caleb refused to let her, she lobbied for dutch treat.

“No,” he said adamantly. “This one’s on me.”

“Okay, I give up. You win. Pay away.” She waved a hand.

“Thank you.”

“You know, most guys would jump at a chance to let their date pay.”

“I’m not most guys.”

She studied him with a pensive expression. “No, no, you’re not.”

“And we’re not on a date.”

“We aren’t, are we?”

“Nope.”

Caleb rose to his feet, took her sweater from the back of her chair and held it out for her to slip her arms into. She seemed flustered by the gesture and missed the armhole twice before getting it right.

“Ready to go out on the observation deck?” she asked just a bit too brightly.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t want to go, but he wanted to be with Meggie. Anything to prolong this evening. Even if it entailed peering down from a great man-made height.

He gulped.

Meggie guided him from the restaurant and up a short flight of stairs to the observation deck. The minute she took his hand, her heart started the same crazy stuttering it had back in the shower at the dance studio. What on earth was the matter with her? Wrong time of the month maybe?

But of course not. PMS triggered crankiness and cramps, not this strange, inexplicable euphoria that set her heart to skipping beats.

This was Caleb, for crying out loud, not Don Juan. Had her hormones gone haywire?

Disconcerted, she dropped his hand and moved out onto the observation deck. Clutching her sweater more tightly around her in the wind, she meandered to the edge of the railing and stared out into the night.

When Caleb didn’t move to join her, she turned to find him still hovering in the archway between the restaurant and the deck.

The sight of him standing there, his hair whipping sexily in the breeze, his coat collar flipped up around his strong, muscular neck, made her feel very mixed up indeed. She had an inexplicable hunger to feel his arms wrapped around her waist. She wanted to lean against his chest, rest her head on his shoulders.

“Come on.” She motioned him over.

“I’m fine right here,” he called.

“The view is terrific.” She pointed. “Come look at the harbor.”

“You go ahead.”

“What’s the matter, Greenleaf? You chicken?”

“Actually, yes.”

“You?” She laughed. “I don’t believe it.”

“Guilty as charged. I’m afraid of heights.”

“But you climbed Mount McKinley with Quinn and you serve on the mountain rescue squad.”

“I’m not afraid of heights per se. Just man-made heights. Towers, tall buildings that sway, elevators that go farther than ten or twelve floors. It’s sort of a claustrophobia-acrophobia combo.”

“That’s right. I remember Jesse saying something about that. You got lost in an elevator at the Eiffel Tower when you were a kid.”