Chapter 23 23
"Good, then we'll go out." He whipped out his phone, dialed Diana's number and within minutes lined her up as a sitter. Pressing the phone power button, he smiled. "Dinner and a movie okay?"
"All right, fine. I'll go." What could she say? He'd backed her into a corner of her own making.
"I hear fear again," he goaded.
She made a face at him just as the alarm on his watch sounded. He silenced it and said, "Time for you to go back to work."
Where had the hour gone? she thought. She kissed her baby and was about to kiss Stefan, when she caught herself.
"Got to go," she rushed to say, and stood. Stefan gathered up the baby and followed her into the house, then to the door.
"Diana will be here when you get home. I'll pick you up at seven."
Alana didn't argue. She'd already learned that Stefan was a determined man. She was losing every battle with him.
_________
It was just plain weird to be this nervous, Alana thought, checking her appearance in the mirror again. She wanted to look good. No, great, she amended, smoothing the line of her green tank dress. She hadn't worn this since before she was pregnant and was pleased it still looked good. The simple lines were overlaid with a layer of chiffon flecked with gold, dressing it up a bit.
Then she heard the knock and her heartbeat danced a fine tune that told her this night meant more than just Stefan's getting his way. When she came out of her room, Stefan was talking with Diana. Wearing a coat, trousers and pale-blue shirt.
His gaze moved over her from head to toe and back up. "You look incredible."
"Thank you."
He smiled, hoping she believed him. "Ready?"
She glanced hesitantly at the baby and Diana.
"Oh, go on, we'll be fine," Diana said, nearly pushing Alana toward the door.
After Alana kissed the baby, Stefan steered her outside to the car. A few minutes later they were pulling into the parking lot of a quaint restaurant on the waterfront.
"I forgot this place was here," she said after the waiter had seated them.
"I bet there's a lot of things you've forgotten since you had a baby."
She had her face in the menu, a defense tactic, he decided. He liked that she was nervous. His own heart was beating double time.
"I haven't forgotten anything, just lack the time."
He pushed down the menu. "Didn't you used to paint?" When she nodded, he added, "When was the last time you did that or went out with a girlfriend? Or soaked in a tub for an hour and painted your toenails or whatever it is that women do to look that great."
She blushed, unable to be defensive when he complimented her like that.
"When I didn't have someone else to think about," she said, and met his gaze over the menu. "Are you going to spend the evening showing me the error of my ways—or are we going to have dinner and be adults?''
Stefan's smile was slow in coming and he sat back in his chair, ordered wine and nodded. The rest of the evening swept past them in a delightful blur.
They talked of everything except marriage and their baby. They debated politics and she learned more about his job. He told her about his partners, and of the few who were married, he mentioned their wives. He spoke quietly of an old mission, leaving out a great many details, she knew, but it was nice to have him confide in her at least that much.
She told him how she'd handled her broken engagements, how hurt her parents had been that she'd been betrayed, then she scolded Stefan again for calling her father.
"He already likes you," she admitted. "Though when I was pregnant, he was ready to hunt you down."
Stefan just smiled, unaffected. "With a gun I'll bet."
Alana didn't respond to that, not wanting to ruin the evening.
"Whatever you said to him, he's keeping it secret. He won't tell Mom or me."
"Good. It's between us."
Alana's look was wary, but Stefan wouldn't give an inch.
"A guy thing," she said at last. "Okay. I won't pester."
"You wouldn't get it out of me, anyway. I'm trained to withstand pleading and tears."
Alana laughed at his teasing, dined on incredible seafood and drank a little too much wine. When the meal was over, they decided to skip the movie and take a walk on the waterfront. The gnarled oaks were dripping with moss and lit with tiny lights, the wind warm and balmy as it rolled off the river.
Stefan slung his jacket over his shoulder and strolled beside her, barely resisting the urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. She did things to him, made his palms sweat, made it hard to breathe sometimes when he was near her, and right now, she looked like a willowy fairy with her deep-red hair and the glitter of gold flecks on her dress. Suddenly she stopped, shaking a stone out of her high-heeled sandal, and he lent his arm, chuckling to himself when she continued their walk barefoot. She didn't let go, her arm looped through his until she paused at the rail. Alana inhaled the salty air. The slosh of water against the wall below beat rhythmically.
"I had a good time." She said,
"It isn't over yet."
She glanced his way. "It's late, and Diana is—"
"She's fine. So is Juliana." When she looked to argue, he sighed. "And here I'd thought we were being adults and you'd relaxed."
Her brows knitted softly. "We are. I have. It's been wonderful. But—"
"Hush up, Alana."
"What?"
There was that look again, he thought. "You're going to talk yourself out of a good time if you say anything else." Stefan stepped up to her, and without laying a hand on her, he kissed her.
Alana didn't bother to deny herself the pleasure. Staring at this man across the dinner table, heck, all week long only fueled her need. He kissed thickly, a slow torture of his incredible mouth, his hands clenched at his sides, and when she dropped her shoes and pressed herself against him, only then did he wrap her in his arms and hold on.