Hot Single Docs Collection. Lynne Marshall
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Ryan gave her a quizzical look. The wait even on weeknights for a table at Volpentesta’s was long and she’d just waltzed in without a reservation.
The restaurant was an authentic Italian bistro right down to the red checked cloths and the candle on the table. The room was dark enough to make for a pleasing ambiance but not so dim that he couldn’t appreciate Lucy’s incredibly expressive face.
She wore little make-up. On occasion he’d noticed that she’d applied a gloss to her lips that made them dewy looking. Her hair was always contained by a ribbon or clip or was braided. More than once he’d pictured what it might look like free. She was unique. He’d give her that.
It had been a long time since he’d found a woman so interesting. She reminded him of Irish coffee. Sweet, fresh cream on top with a stout bite beneath. What kind of magic was this woman conjuring over him?
“Come this way, my dear.” Mr. Volpentesta led them to a table for two in a far corner of the room.
“How do you know him?” Ryan said close to her ear.
“I live upstairs.” She turned and followed the man again.
“Good choice,” he said, more to himself than her when they were given a cozy spot. What he’d had in mind had been more of a friendly meal than a lovers’ evening. He looked around the room but not finding a better option he accepted his fate. He held her chair out and waited until Lucy was settled before he sat.
“Your father has left nothing out.” She spread her napkin in her lap.
“He was a thorough man.”
“Was?”
Left no choice, he said, “He died.” He couldn’t keep the heartache out of his voice.
At her stricken and pitying look, he wished he’d lied. She placed a hand on his forearm and gave him an earnest look. “I’m sorry.”
Her touch and concern diminished his feeling of loss for a moment. For the first time he actually felt comforted by another human being. Why was it that this Southern belle touched more than just his arm? “I’m doing fine.”
Mercifully, the waiter came to take their order and bought them a bottle of house wine. Ryan wasn’t surprised when Lucy ordered a salad. When the waiter left he leaned forward and said, “Do you have any idea on how many levels of wrong it is to order a salad in a place like this?”
“I’m just not that hungry.”
He gave her a speculative look. “If I were to guess, you haven’t been eating like you should.”
She shrugged and toyed with her silverware.
“Not going to comment on that one?”
“No,” she said with less zeal than she had earlier, confirming he’d been correct.
He fished for something to keep the conversation going that wasn’t too personal. He didn’t think she’d answer more questions if they were. “So, did you grow up in Atlanta?” That wasn’t as impersonal as he would’ve liked but he wanted to know more about her.
“Sort of, but mostly at a boarding school in northeast Georgia.”
He cocked his head in question.
“My parents divorced. It was easier to send Alexis and me off than to take care of us.”
His mother had died when he’d been young. Before his father had gotten too sick he’d been there to take care of Ryan and his sisters. They had never doubted that they were wanted and loved. “Alexis?”
“My twin sister.”
“So you’re a twin. Interesting. I bet you’re close. My father said more than once that ‘Family’s everything. Without family you have nothing.’”
Clouds formed in her eyes. “I guess for some that’s true,” she said, sounding more resigned than wistful.
But not for her? “I shouldn’t have said that.” He took a swallow of his wine. The melancholy in her voice made him wish he’d not quoted his father.
“Alexis and I had each other. We were our own family...” She let the words trail off.
He had to find another subject. “You know, it turns out we’re a better team than I anticipated.”
“Even as slowly as I speak, I’m still worthwhile.” She smirked.
Despite her making fun of him, he enjoyed her quick mind. “Truthfully, I like your accent. Makes me think of lazy, hot days and ice-cold drinks.”
She blinked then her eyelids fluttered down. “Now you’re embarrassing me.” She looked at him. “You know something about me. How about telling me about you?”
“Brooklyn, and more Brooklyn. Med school NYU, intern Angel’s, Angel’s today.”
“I see. The source of your clipped dialect, with a hint of Irish burr occasionally.”
“Guilty. My father was second-generation Irish. My accent isn’t anywhere near as strong as his was.”
Was. He hated that word. Every time he said it, it just reaffirmed that his father was gone.
Their meals arrived. He inhaled the smell of the steaming pie. “This is going to taste wonderful.” He glanced up as he bit into a slice of pizza. Lucy watched him. She looked down at her salad. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You were thinking something. Tell.”
Her eyes slowly lifted. “I’ve never seen a man enjoy his food quite as much as you do.”
He grinned around the warm pizza at his lips. “I told you I was hungry and this is darned good pizza. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You want to share?” He raised the slice in his hand. Somehow the word share took on an intimate connotation when it included her. “Come on, you should at least try your landlord’s pie.”
“I guess I could stand a bite.”
He leaned over the table, holding the slice to her lips. She took a mouthful next to where he’d bitten. Somehow it made it far too familiar. As if their lips had touched. He was captivated by the change in her facial expression when it became one of ecstasy as she experienced the taste and texture of the morsel. His gaze remained glued to her lips when the tip of her tongue peeked out to caress the breadth of her full lips, seizing every particle of pleasure, leaving her pink mouth wet and glistening.
He shifted uncomfortably as his body reacted to the sight. Her utterly innocent look said she had no idea how incredibly erotic her actions were. Making her even more mesmerizing.
“Another?” He couldn’t have stopped himself from asking if he’d been offered a million dollars. He wanted her to repeat that sensual gesture. The downside was he wasn’t sure he could leave the restaurant without embarrassing himself, or, worse, her.
“It was good, but, no, thanks.”
Disappointed, he accepted her decision without pressing her to change her mind. With an effort he prevented his discomfort from showing. Based on her innocent appearance and just as enthralling was the fact she had no idea what she did to him.
He took another bite, hoping to clear his head, but it didn’t help. She really was an enigma. In her slacks and sweater, she looked at if she had never experienced much of life, but he knew better.
They were finishing their meal over a discussion of the latest movies when Lucy’s attention was drawn to something across the room. He turned to see what it was. A mother a few tables over was holding a baby of about six months old. What was it with her and babies? He still didn’t understand