Awakening (A Dangerous Man, #1) (2 page)

“I’d like the glass swan.”

I have no idea what he just said. “The what?”

He lips twitch again, and he inclines his head towards a
smallish figure of a swan on a lake. It’s all glass, transparent but with
little hints of color. It is very beautiful and costly.

I nod, feeling silly. I pick up the swan and take it to the
front desk. My legs feel like plastic. “Do you want it wrapped?” I ask, trying
to sound professional.

He nods, still smiling. “And delivered.” He dictates an address
in Seattle, which I jot down carefully.

He hands me a card. As I reach out to take it, our hands
touch briefly, and I feel a sudden surge of awareness. I quickly pull mine away,
silently commanding it to stop shaking. I can’t look at him.
He only touched
your hand, for God’s sake!

David Preston. That’s the name on his card. I mouth it silently
as I process his payment.

 “I want to see you.” I freeze at his words. For the second
time since I saw him, I literally cannot breathe. The strange quivering in my
belly moves lower. “What are you doing tonight?”

I manage to find my voice. “Nothing.” I confess.

“Then have dinner with me.”

I bring myself to look at him. I’m unsure, afraid, and
feeling rather faint. It is beyond comprehension that this perfect man is
asking me out on a date.

“He cocks his head, “Please.” He says, though he doesn’t
look as if he is pleading. He is still smiling, but his eyes are burning darkly.

“Yes.” I accept, wondering what else I’m agreeing to.

“When do you finish here?” I wonder hopefully if, like me,
he cannot wait for tonight.

“Five.” I tell him.

“I’ll be here.” He smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. His
smile tugs at some deep part of me, and I want to sigh. A few moments later, he
is gone, with only the slight hint of his cologne in the air to convince me
that I haven’t been daydreaming.

I
t’s almost five, and I’m still finding it hard to believe
that David Preston is not a figment of my imagination. Stacey has left already,
happy with the sale of the swan, the only sale we have made today. I get ready
to close the shop, filled with tension at the thought of my dinner date.

In the bathroom at the back of the shop, I brush my hair and
check my reflection in the mirror. I don’t have any makeup, so I apply lip balm
to my lips and pinch my cheeks a little, reminding myself buy a few items, maybe
lip-gloss, and mascara, as soon as I can. There is no one to disapprove anymore,
now that Aunt Josephine is gone.

He is standing outside the shop when I come out of the
bathroom. He’s changed out of the gray suit of earlier, and is now wearing
black pants, with a pale blue shirt, and a dark jacket. He looks effortlessly stylish,
and a thousand times more handsome than I remember from this morning... if that’s
even possible. Next to him, I probably look juvenile and uncouth.

I smooth my hair nervously, trying, without success, to
control my heart rate, which has gone exceedingly high. I walk to meet him,
locking the door behind me.

“Hi.” I can’t believe how nervous I feel. It’s cool outside,
but my skin feels unusually hot.

“Hi Sophie.” His voice is as beautiful as I remember, and it
makes the sound of my name feel like a caress. I try not to look down as his
eyes take in my flushed face. “Ready?” He asks.

I nod, and he leads me to his car. It’s not the black sedan
of earlier, but a silver BMW convertible that glints in the evening light. He
opens the front passenger door, and I step in. The interior is luxurious, with
black leather seats and a sleek dashboard. It smells of leather, with a slight
hint of his cologne, I inhale deeply.

He gets into the driver’s seat and turns to me. Again, his
eyes mesmerize me. What am I doing? There is no way I can survive an evening
alone with this man. “So where do you want to go?” He asks.

I have no idea. I wonder if I should have thought of this
before. “Where would you like to go?”

His eyebrow lifts, and for a moment I can’t help but stare,
enchanted. “You know the town,” he says, “don’t you?”

I shake my head. I really don’t. I have never hung out, or
done any of the things young people do. My aunt made sure I had no friends
while she was alive, and in the months since her death, I have realized that
almost everybody thinks that, like her, I am weird.

He chuckles deeply. “That’s strange, didn’t you grow up
here?”

“I’ve been away at boarding school.” I look out of the
window, “and anyway I’ve never been very outgoing.” Luckily, I remember the seafood
place Stacey and her husband went to on their anniversary. It’s on the other
side of town, and I’ve never been there, but I mention it to him anyway.

He starts the car and enters the name of the restaurant into
a GPS system on the dashboard. As he waits for directions, I realize how
underdressed I am for where we are going. I really don’t want to be an
embarrassment. I’m not even sure that the only dress I have will be suitable, but
I’m determined to make an effort.

“Can we stop by my place?” I ask tentatively.

His eyes skip from the road to my face. “Of course.”

The apartment building is not far from the shop, so I just
give him directions. “I won’t be a minute,” I tell him as I climb out of the
car. I almost run upstairs to my apartment, a one bedroom with a tiny kitchen, living
room, and bathroom. The living room windows look out into the car park and
further out into the commercial part of town. I can see the silver BMW idling in
the car park, but I can’t see David through the tinted windows.

I hurriedly change into the pale blue cotton dress I wore
for my graduation. I haven’t worn it since then. As I take a quick look at
myself in the mirror, I hope desperately that it will do.

“Nice dress.” David tells me as he helps me back into the
car. “You didn’t have to change on my account though, you already looked
great.”

For some reason, his words make me feel unreasonably glad. “Thank
you.” I say, “I wanted to.”

He nods and starts to drive towards the restaurant. We are
both silent. I wonder if I should try to make conversation, but I don’t know
what to say.

“Were you at a conference at Ashcroft Hills?” I ask finally.

He nods.

I search my mind for something else to say. “I hope it went
well.”  

He shrugs. “It went well.” He looks over at me. “I went to
make a decision about a new software that may either be the next big thing, or
a complete waste of time.”

“What did you decide?” I realize that I’m genuinely interested.
I want to know everything about him.

“I bought it.” Something in his voice gives me a feeling
that he is someone who is used to being able to get whatever he wants, as soon
as he decides that he wants it.

“So what do you do instead of being outgoing?’ He asks, breaking
into my thoughts.

I shrug. “I read, sometimes I draw.”

He looks interested. “What do you draw?”

“Stuff.” I’m definitely not going to tell him that I’ve been
doodling his face on the margins of my book since he left the store. “I do more
of reading actually.”

“Like Fanny Hill.”

I blush. I’m so embarrassed I don’t even know how to respond.

A smile curves his lips as he registers my embarrassment. “I
thought young people never read anymore.” He says. I wonder how old he is.

“What?” He asks, his eyes are back on the road now.

“I am wondering how old you are,” I say softly.

He laughs, and my ears follow the sound eagerly. “Oh I’m
legal,” he sounds amused. “I’m twenty seven.”

So am I, I think. I remember when he asked me my age
earlier, and I try to control the shiver of excitement I feel.

At the restaurant, the manager takes one look at David and
immediately puts himself at our service. There is so much deference in his
manner that I start to wonder if I’m not missing something. David doesn’t seem
surprised or bothered. He is used to people serving him, I realize. I don’t
know what conclusions to draw, I know so little about him.

As the manager leads us to a secluded table with a view of
park, I notice how the women stare openly, while the men look at him with a combination
of jealousy and admiration. They know who he is, I realize. I wonder how soon I
will have the opportunity to google him. I don’t own a computer, but there is
one at the shop.

The waiter brings the menu, and David orders wine. I take my
time studying the menu, trying to decide what to order, and thinking how young
and gauche I must seem compared to all the sophisticated women he probably
knows.

While we eat, I tell him more about myself. I think the wine
relaxes me, because I really talk to him. I tell him about my mother, who died
giving birth to me, and Aunt Josephine, her much older sister, who became my
guardian. I even tell him about my father, who nobody knew, but who Aunt
Josephine always said was some professor my mother had an affair with during
the only semester she spent at college.

I tell him about boarding school, life in Ashford working at
the shop, and about Stacey Carver. Finally, I tell him about my plans to go to Bellevue
to get a job.

“Why not Seattle?” He asks. “It’s bigger.”

I don’t want to tell him that I chose Bellevue because my
mother went to college there, and came back with me. I don’t want him to think
I am chasing a ghost, so I just shrug.

He is a good listener, but he never says anything about
himself. Not that I notice, I’m too caught up in the beauty of him, his graceful
hands and fingers, the way his eyes seem to penetrate me when he looks at me,
and the way his hair frames his face in a soft black wave.

I have a sudden urge to touch his hair, it’s so strong that I
have to control it consciously. What is happening to me?

“Sophie?” The voice breaks me out of my admiration of David,
and I turn around to see a familiar face, Eddie Newton. He was a neighbor back when
I still lived with Aunt Josephine. I don’t know him very well, Aunt Josephine
made sure of that. He always had a friendly smile and a wave for me when I was
a lonely kid. He’s been away at college for a while, and I haven’t seen him
since long before Aunt Josephine died.

“Hi Eddie,” I say, trying to control my unhappiness at
having to tear my eyes off David. I manage a friendly smile.

There is an attractive looking brunette with Eddie. She can’t
seem to take her eyes off David. I don’t blame her, I know what he looks like.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Eddie tells me, his eyes moving
from my face to David’s.

I nod, and then realize that I probably should perform some
sort of introductions. “David, this is Eddie,” I say. “We were neighbors
growing up. Eddie, this is David Preston, he...” It hits me again that I don’t
know anything about him, and I stop, embarrassed.

“I’m attending a conference here in town,” David adds smoothly,
rescuing me, “or I was.” He qualifies. “I’m heading back to Seattle in the
morning.”

I feel my face fall. I haven’t thought of him leaving. I try
to tell myself that Seattle is only an hour away, but I’m sure I will never see
him again. Why would he come back for me anyway? I hardly hear as Eddie
introduces his companion, but I can sense almost the same deference in his tone
as he talks to David as I had heard earlier in the managers’ voice. His
companion cannot keep the open flirtation from her voice as she says hello to David,
adding that she is very glad to meet him.

“I’m sorry for your loss Sophie,” Eddie says to me. He gives
me an encouraging smile. “I’m sorry I haven’t tried to see you before now.”

I frown, wondering why he would try to ‘see’ me. “You were
away at college,” I tell him, “and I’m okay.” I add. “Really.”

He gives me another encouraging smile before he and his
companion move away from our table.

David is looking intently at me. “Old boyfriend?” He asks. I
sense an edge in his voice, and I’m suddenly eager to clear the air.

“No,” I deny. “Of course not. I don’t have any old
boyfriends.”

“Young ones then?” He searches my face. I suspect that he is
not teasing. The look in his eyes makes my stomach clench. I shake my head.

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving,” I realize that the
question is probably silly. He lives in Seattle, and is only here for a
conference after all.

He leans back in his chair and considers me for a moment. “I
was leaving this afternoon.” He tells me. “Yet I stopped to ask you to dinner.”
He smiles. “Then I left anyway.” He shrugs. “I was going to call the shop and
apologize,” he leans forward until I can almost feel his breath on my face,
“but here I am back in little Ashford, on a date with an eighteen year old.”

I have a very clear mental image of waiting
expectantly at the shop, and being disappointed by a phone call. I would have
been miserable.

 “I’m glad you changed your mind.” I reply hotly.

 He seems taken aback by the passion in my reply. He smiles
wryly, “Somebody should have warned you to stay away from men like me.”

“What kind of man are you?” I ask.

“The type that’s bad for you.”

I shrug. “I wouldn’t have listened.”

His expression is unreadable, he is looking at me, but he
doesn’t say anything. He signals for the waiter. “I should take you home.”

I don’t want to go home. I don’t want never to see him
again. His eyes hold mine from across the table, and I know I want everything
those eyes are promising.

“Let’s go,” He helps me out of my chair and I follow him out,
my legs feeling rubbery. He opens the door for me to get in, and I wait until
he slides into the driver’s seat next to me.

“Will you come back here again?” I can’t keep the hitch from
my voice. I want to see him again, I need to. I need him in a way that even I
do not understand.

“I’m not sure.” He shrugs. “You’ll be in Bellevue anyway.”

I had forgotten about that. I look down at my hands on my
lap, and I wish I were older and more beautiful. I wish I was the kind of
seductress who could drive him crazy with just one look. It’s heartbreaking
that I cannot even keep a man like him interested in me for longer than a date.

‘Are you alright?” He asks softly. He places a hand under my
chin and lifts my face to his.

His eyes take in my shiny eyes and the unhappiness on my
face. I can’t read his expression as he looks at me. I want to say something, I
want to tell him that it’s not his fault and that I’m just a silly girl who has
never been on a real date before.

I’m still trying to form the words when he leans forward and
covers my lips with his.

The rush of sensations overwhelms me. His lips are warm and firm,
sweet and demanding. I moan softly. He takes advantage of the opening, and his
tongue slips into my mouth, stroking mine, and flooding my body with a
wonderful sweetness.

He pops my seatbelt in one swift movement, and in the next
moment, he pulls me to him, crushing my breasts against his chest. His fingers
lightly skims the side of my breast, he squeezes it gently, and then softly
pinches my nipple through the fabric of my gown.

“Oh!” I moan loudly, my eyes flutter to his face to find him
watching me, his eyes dark. His lips are so close to mine, so I raise my head
and kiss them. He kisses me back. I can do this forever, I think, my head
spinning wildly.

He reaches up into my hair and undoes the barrettes, releasing
my hair to fall around my face.

He pulls away to look at me, his chest heaving. “Sophie...” he
breathes softly. “I wanted to do that since I saw you outside the shop this afternoon,”
He runs his fingers through a few strands of my hair, and smiles at me. “You
don’t know what you’ve done to me.”