Had she really been in this man's arms last night? Naked except for a sheer batiste nightgown? Moving against him yearningly, kissing him in a way that, even now, made her giddy? And were they now calmly discussing sachets? Saturday night she'd felt rebuffed because he hadn't made a pass at her. He'd been almost too nice. Well, he hadn't been nice last night. But instead of being angry, she was now confused.
She watched him move toward a display of scented stationery. He picked up one of the gift-wrapped boxes and sniffed it. "Chanel?" he asked her over his shoulder.
She nodded dumbly. On whom had he smelled Chanel, she wondered.
He replaced the stationery and wandered toward the shelves stocked with an array of chocolates. Her clever display was eye-catching, but it didn't quite warrant the undivided attention he gave it.
"The open box is there for you to sample," she said to fill the teeming silence.
"Good merchandising, but no thanks."
From there he moved to the crystal pin boxes and perfume bottles, then to the lacquered jewelry boxes, then to the satin lingerie travel cases, then to the lace-bound volumes of poetry.
Elizabeth became entranced by the manner in which he picked up and handled the merchandise. He had large, capable, manly hands that were sprinkled with dark hair. Yet they weren't bashful about touching even the most delicate filigree trinket.
"What's the key for?"
Startled by the sudden question, Elizabeth yanked her gaze from his hands to his face. "Uh, it goes with the diary."
"Oh, I see."
He picked up the book with the padded satin cover and pushed the tiny gold key into the lock. Something about the surety with which he inserted the key into the slot made Elizabeth light-headed. She caught herself swaying on the stool. He laid the diary back on the shelf. She took a deep breath. He turned to face her, but remained disconcertingly silent.
"Is there… Did you need… Are you looking for anything in particular?"
He cleared his throat and glanced away. "Yes. I need something nice."
"Oh?" She wanted to add "For whom?" but thought better of it.
"A very special gift."
"Any special occasion?"
He coughed. "Well, actually, yes. I need to reestablish a bygone relationship." He moved to stand directly in front of the glass showcase she was sitting behind. "The sooner, the better. If I don't, I'm afraid that I won't be able to stop with a kiss next time."
Elizabeth kept her eyes trained on the square, blunt edge of his chin. But he didn't move away and he didn't say anything more. It became obvious that he expected her to make the next move, so she painstakingly raised her eyes to meet his. "You didn't stop with a kiss this time."
"No," he said softly, "I didn't, did I? Do you need an apology, Elizabeth?"
She shook her head. "I'd rather not talk about it at all."
"You don't want an explanation?"
"I'm not sure there is an explanation for something like that. It just" — she made a helpless gesture — "happened."
"I didn't plan it."
"I know."
"I don't want you to think that I crossed our backyards with a wallbanger in mind."
She sucked in a quick little breath. "I don't."
They said nothing for a moment, then he asked, "Why were you so hostile yesterday at the market?"
"I was annoyed."
"Why?"
"I don't know exactly," she said, meaning it. "I guess because I want to get my own dates. I don't want my children to recruit them for me. I wanted to make it clear to you that I didn't expect you to ask me out again. Maybe I went overboard to get my point across."
"You did."
"I realize that now. I'm sorry I overreacted."
"No need to apologize. I overreacted too. You made me mad as hell. I shouldn't have said what I did, though. That was uncalled for."
"Please," she said, shaking her head. "I understand."
He released a long breath. "Anyway, when I drove in last night and saw that your sprinkler was on, I thought I'd do you a favor and turn it off. I didn't expect to see you standing there. Especially wearing nothing but a thin nightgown." His eyes turned a shade darker. "That came as quite a shock to my system."
"You don't think I went out like that to attract your attention, do you?"
"No."
"Because I didn't. I heard the water running and realized I'd forgotten to turn it off. If it hadn't been so late I would never have gone outside in my nightgown. And if it hadn't been necessary, I wouldn't have gone outside at all."
"I understand."
If he understood, she'd do well to shut up while she was ahead. This was one of those bad situations that could only get worse by saying too much. "What did you have in mind?" she asked.
"Just to kiss you. Nothing more than that, I swear. But then you started kissing me back. I felt your breasts against my chest and, damn, they felt good. I had to — What's the matter?"
"I meant to buy," she said croakingly. "What did you have in mind to buy for the gift to give your… your lady?"
"Oh, that. Well, let's see." He slid his hands into his trousers pockets, a gesture which flipped back his jacket. The front of his shirt was smoothly filled out by the muscled chest beneath it. The front of his trousers was filled out by the bulging…
Elizabeth guiltily jerked her eyes back up to his chest and detected the dark cloud of hair through the fine cloth. It was the first time she'd ever seen him in a necktie except from a distance. Did he always dress up for his afternoon affairs?
"What do you suggest?" he asked her.
Flustered, she couldn't think of a single item in her inventory. She gazed around the shop as though seeing it for the first time. She couldn't remember what anything was called or how much it cost. Finally, raking together enough words to form a coherent thought, she made several suggestions, none of which appealed to him.
"No, she's not the bookish type," he said, when Elizabeth suggested a slender volume of Shakespeare's sonnets.
No, she wouldn't be. Of course not. Mistresses rarely were. A man didn't go to his mistress, especially one he hadn't seen in quite a while, for cerebral stimulation.
"What about some of this frilly underwear?" Thad was rifling through the circular rack of lingerie. "Do women really enjoy wearing this kind of thing? Or do men just wish they did?"
Her anger at him surged to the forefront again. Why was he bringing his sordid business to her? If he wanted to buy a sexy negligee for his illicit lover, why did it have to be from her?
"Some women do," she snapped. The emphasis she placed on the first word indicated that the women who did enjoy wearing such garments were of questionable virtue.
"Do you?"
Her eyes swung up to his. They were daring her to lie. She rose to meet the challenge. Besides, her son had already informed him that she did. "Sometimes. If I'm in the mood."
"How often does the mood strike you?" Her middle grew warm. The warmth spread upward. It filled her breasts and collected in their tightening nipples. Had he noticed them poking against the front of her blouse? Was he remembering the way his tongue had lashed them, making them wet through the cloth of her nightgown?
"That varies from woman to woman," she said.
He turned and began looking through the garments, sliding the hangers along the metal rack. The sound they made was as irritating to Elizabeth as fingernails on a chalkboard.
"This is pretty." He pulled an article out and held it up. "What's it called?"
"A teddy."
His lips formed a wide, wolfish smile. "No wonder. A man could really cuddle up with it."
She failed to see the humor and barely curbed the impulse to snatch the teddy away from him. "Do you want it or not? It's sixty dollars." He whistled softly. "Isn't she worth it?" Elizabeth asked snidely.