To mask her unease, she turned her attention to her food. To her astonishment, the meal was delicious. She surprised herself by putting her normal reservations aside and ate with enjoyment.
Cruz watched her over the top of his wineglass. She had approached the first few forkfuls warily, he noted with amusement. She definitely did not have a trusting nature. But after several minutes their conversation had her so involved that she forgot to surreptitiously examine the food, and just ate it. They were arguing about national politics and he was surprised to find that their viewpoints were not that far apart. But he’d never been one to let similar viewpoints get in the way of a stimulating discussion.
“I agree with you.” He interrupted her in the midst of a spirited argument. He replaced his wineglass on the table and resumed eating his meal.
She frowned at him. “But you said-”
“I know what I said. I just wanted to see how strongly you would defend your position. And you did it quite well, I thought.” His eyes twinkled. “You should have been a lawyer.”
Madeline stared at him. “You did it to me again,” she finally murmured, shaking her head in bemusement. “Why do I keep forgetting how you operate? You just like to get people stirred up, don’t you?”
“Yep,” he admitted without shame. “It’s my forte. You go with your strengths. Plus your impassioned persuasion kept you so busy you forgot what you were eating.” He pointed his fork at her plate.
“Very tricky,” she said, noticing for the first time that she’d eaten most of her helping. “But you’ll notice I managed to avoid the peppers.”
“You did quite well for the first time. And for your reward…” He got up and went to the refrigerator. “I brought something that would earn your forgiveness if you absolutely hated the meal.”
Her mouth watered on cue when he presented the dessert. “For French silk pie I would forgive you for starting World War III. But there’s no need for it. Everything was delicious.”
“Thank you, thank you,” he said with false modesty. “But I have to admit, my culinary genius does not extend to baked goods. I got this at a Miller’s Bakery.”
They savored the sweet dessert and when they were finished, Madeline sat back contentedly. “I don’t think I’ll move for the next several hours.”
“In that case, maybe we’d better go into the living room. You’ll be more comfortable on the couch in case you fall asleep. I’ll clean up the kitchen.”
Shaking her head, Madeline rose and walked over to the TV, flipping it on and dropping onto the couch as he’d suggested. “Forget the dishes,” she said. “I’ll do them later when I have more energy.”
He didn’t need any more encouragement, and sat on the other end of the couch. She would be amazed later to recall how quickly the evening passed. They talked as freely as two friends who’d known each other for years, with an easy familiarity. When Cruz rose later, remarking about the time, Madeline’s eyes flew to the clock. She was shocked to see how late it was getting. She followed him to the door.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely, “for the meal.”
“Well, I guess I owed you. I really didn’t mean to offend you this afternoon.”
“You didn’t have to do this, but…” She smiled impishly. “I’m glad you did.”
He gazed down at her. “So am I.” She was so close he could reach out and touch her, and he did so without thinking. One finger traced her delicate jawline, and the others curled under her chin of their own accord. He didn’t plan it, but his head began descending.
Just a quick kiss, that was all he expected. A light brushing of lips, a friendly goodbye. It would have been a fitting ending to a spontaneous evening that had turned out surprisingly well. But once his mouth met hers, his expectations faded, to be replaced with something deeper, more demanding.
She saw his face draw closer and she didn’t pull away as she knew she ought to. A kiss seemed almost natural after the evening they’d shared, and her eyelids drooped in anticipation. But anticipation didn’t prepare her for the onslaught of emotion that accompanied his kiss. She’d expected a casual peck, perhaps a teasing brush of mouths, and a joking remark to accompany him out the door. But there was nothing teasing about this.
At the first taste of her, Cruz could feel a spark in his belly quickly grow into a knot of fire. It wasn’t enough, and he followed the dictates of his body, not his mind. He pulled her closer, cupped her head in the palm of his hand and kissed her the way he wanted to, the way he’d thought about doing since the first time he’d seen her, looking so prim and professional.
His lips pressed hers apart and his tongue swept in, exploring boldly. Not expecting such an intimate caress, Madeline’s fingers clutched reflexively on his chest. The heat from his stroking tongue generated an answering heat in the pit of her stomach. She allowed the sparks to sweep away reason for a moment. For an instant she allowed herself to respond to the demand implicit in his kiss, and issued a demand of her own.
Their mouths twisted together in a mindless wanting that reduced their earlier friendliness to a sham. It was long moments before Cruz raised his head.
With her lips bereft of his, her eyes flickered open slowly. He was staring down at her, his eyes still full of the promise his mouth had been issuing a second ago. There was a slight frown on his face. Then he brushed his lips across her forehead and left, as if not trusting himself to do more.
His departure seemed no more abrupt than the cessation of that mind-drugging kiss of a minute ago, and when the door shut behind him, Madeline sagged weakly against it. What a fool she’d been just then, she thought dizzily. She’d imagined what a kiss from him would be like. But her expectations hadn’t prepared her for this thought-draining, soul-racking kiss, which left her boneless and alarmingly empty-headed.
It was some time before her mind cleared enough for her to lock the door behind him. But after she did, she leaned against it again. Later would come the self-recriminations. For now, words escaped her mind, and all she could do was touch her lips in remembrance and smile.
# # # #
Morning seemed to come with the gentleness of a sledgehammer against cement. Cruz hadn’t slept particularly well, and his mood didn’t improve much over coffee. His brilliant idea of the previous evening, to get on a better footing with Madeline Casey, had succeeded all too well. Except for the fact that he’d reacted to her as hot and fast as a randy sixteen-year-old in the back seat of his father’s car. He rubbed his forehead in remembrance. Keep it light, that had been his plan for the evening. But somehow he’d lost that thought at the first taste of her.
His sudden physical response was not a mystery; he’d been attracted to her from the beginning. He appreciated women, and he especially appreciated women who were smart as well as beautiful. It was his momentary lack of control last night that bothered him. Cruz hadn’t gotten to be a thirty-four-year-old bachelor without his share of experience with the opposite sex. But somehow none of that experience had come to his aid last night, and that was disturbing.
He was used to arranging things to suit himself. He had an innate charm that prevented people from protesting, even when they realized how he stayed in control of a situation. He’d figured the situation with Madeline had called for a little more camaraderie, a little lighthearted friendliness, and that was exactly what he’d provided. Until he’d lost control of that plan at the end, when their kiss had become much more than that.
He didn’t like the feeling he had now, as if he’d made a rather large mistake, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on when or why things had gone so awry. All he knew was that they had less to do with him and much more to do with Madeline Casey. And his reaction to her. He brooded over this on the drive to work. When he got to his desk, she was already there.