What She Really Wants for Christmas. Debbi Rawlins
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motioned for her to keep walking. She started to protest and then closed her lush, pink mouth when she must have realized that he was going to walk her to her car whether she liked it or not.
Most of the lot was unusually empty for this time of day. Then he remembered hearing that one of the departments was having a Christmas party tonight. Otherwise, no one left until the director had his or her perfect shot. He saw Liza’s compact about a half dozen stalls away. The car was an older model and didn’t come with the convenience of a remote so he waited until she manually unlocked her door.
She got it open and then stood back. “I wish you would’ve let me pay the check.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
She made a face. “I’m getting in now so you can leave knowing you’ve done your gentlemanly duty.”
He held the door for her until she was sitting behind the wheel. It took a good deal of willpower not to lean over and kiss her. Just a brief touching of lips. Nothing threatening. But she probably wouldn’t welcome the overture and he wasn’t one to push. “Drive safely,” he said, and closed the door.
Before he could walk away, she promptly rolled down the window. A floodlight from the building shined on her face, making her hazel eyes glitter. “I really did have a nice time, Evan.”
“Who are you trying to convince?”
She smiled. “Okay, I deserved that.”
“For the record, me, too,” he said and headed for his car before he gave in to his impulse and did something foolish. The woman wasn’t interested. He was a mature adult. He could accept that he wasn’t her type. Didn’t have to like it, but he could certainly accept the fact.
He got out his keys and used the remote to unlock the car doors. He was too busy to be dating, anyway. As it was, his receptionist constantly begged him to expand his office hours. She was tired of turning away patients. In about three years he figured he could quit consulting on the television show and start looking toward the future. Build a nice solid practice, work hard, retire early if he chose. Although he doubted it, because he really did like practicing medicine. The consulting job was a necessity for now.
He took off his jacket and laid it across the backseat before slipping in behind the wheel. It was cool for a moment, but then he turned the key in the ignition and both the promise of warmth and soft rock filled the air. The radio was too loud, but the volume always was deafening when he first started the car. Funny how it never seemed loud when he parked. Maybe that’s why he never remembered to adjust it.
The sun had recently set, leaving a pink tinge along the horizon, but it was dark enough that he glanced in his rearview mirror to make sure Liza had safely left the parking lot. Her car was still there. He squinted but he couldn’t see her behind the wheel. What the hell…
He grabbed the handle and jerked open the car door. He got out, and she was right there, so close, he nearly knocked her over.
“Liza, what’s wrong?” He gripped her upper arms.
“I’m okay,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Really, I’m okay.”
He didn’t let go of her. It felt good being this close. Close enough to feel her warm breath brush his chin. Close enough to smell the vanilla scent that clung to her hair.
“Evan? You’re kind of hurting my arm.”
“Oh, jeez.” He quickly lowered his hands. “I’m sorry.” He gave her some room. “What happened? Is something wrong with your car?”
“No, no. My car is fine.” She briefly glanced over her shoulder. “Well, other than it looks as if it’s been through a war zone. Can I change my mind about tomorrow night?”
That took him aback. “Sure.”
“Ever been to Simone’s?”
He smiled. No problem. She could choose the restaurant. “No, but I know of it.”
“How about seven?”
“That works for me.”
“Good.” She hesitated, and then took a small step back. “Thanks again for tonight.”
“My pleasure.” Was it his imagination or was she reluctant to leave? “I’ll wait until you start your car.”
She sighed. “Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
She made a sound of exasperation and came toward him. He was only about five inches taller, but she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down to her mouth.
She hesitated, as if she’d changed her mind. He smelled her fear, and gently coaxed her lips to soften. Then they parted slightly and he readily accepted the invitation, slipping his tongue inside and exploring the tempting fleshy part of the inside of her cheek. She responded briefly. When she pulled back, he didn’t push. That was enough. For now.
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