A Memorable Man. Joan Hohl

      Sunny gnawed on her lip and glanced around at the laughing, chatting diners crowding the room. “Not here,” she murmured. “I’d prefer somewhere more private.”

      “Like one of the seating areas in the lobby?”

      “Or, better yet... Perhaps, your room?”

      Three

      Sunny’s prosaically delivered suggestion had an electrifying effect on Adam.

      Did she realize the connotations he could... was attaching to her proposal? he reflected, staring at her expectant expression in surprised disbelief. Or, he further mused, had she tossed out a deliberate proposition?

      The concept didn’t seem to fit what Adam had thus far garnered about her character—but on the other hand, what he actually knew about Miss Sunshine Dase was in fact sorely lacking in evidence.

      “Of course, if you prefer one of the seating areas...” she said, shrugging when his silence lengthened.

      “Not at all,” Adam was quick to assure her, taking a deep swallow of his coffee in hopes of relieving the sudden dryness in his throat. “You just caught me off guard,” he admitted, draining the cup before continuing, “I...er, you’re not afraid or even uncertain of being alone with me?”

      “Not at all,” Sunny mimicked, softening her gentle mockery with a confident smile. “I have never, would never, will never be afraid or uncertain of being alone with you.”

      “Why not?” he asked at once, his voice harsh with demand. “What assurance do you have?”

      “Because I know you...so well.” Her voice held a note of wistfulness, her eyes, those deep green windows to her soul, were shadowed with regret. “I know you would sacrifice yourself before you would deliberately hurt me.”

      Oh, God. What had he gotten into here? Adam asked himself, feeling torn between conflicting, yet equal desires. While part of him, the down-toearth, logical part, urged him to retreat, another part, the captivated, fascinated part, demanded he forge ahead, explore the possibilities.

      The inner conflict must have been written plain as day in his expression; it became obvious that Sunny had no difficulty reading him like an open book.

      “You can always change your mind,” she offered, keeping her expression devoid of whatever she might be feeling.

      “No.” The instant decision made and voiced, Adam placed his napkin on the table. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

      Sunny didn’t respond verbally; she made her intent clear by mirroring his act of discarding her napkin.

      After signing the check and tipping the waiter, Adam escorted Sunny from the restaurant and directly to the elevators.

      In a silence fraught with questions, doubts and a building desire he could not deny, Adam stood beside her during the brief ascent to his floor and walked beside her along the hallway to his suite.

      Tension crawled along his nervous system as he pulled shut the door behind them, enclosing them in privacy. A wry smile touched his lips at the thought that at least the bed wasn’t the first thing they saw on entering the sitting room.

      “Very nice,” she murmured, glancing around the room before raising teasing eyes to his. “Do you always take a suite of rooms when you travel?”

      “No.” Adam shook his head. “I usually don’t spend enough time in the room to care, either way. I took this suite simply because it was all that was available.” He flicked a hand to indicate the cozy grouping of settee and two chairs. “Make yourself comfortable.”

      “In a moment,” she said, tossing her cape over the back of a chair as she crossed to the wide window, framed by the open drapes. “The pool area looks rather desolate,” she observed, turning her head to smile at him. “Doesn’t it?”

      “Yeah,” he agreed, wondering how much time she would waste on small-talk inanities before getting around to meaningful explanations. “But, then, despite the mild weather, it is December, isn’t it?”

      “Yes.” She turned her back on the window, as if dismissing the scene beyond the pane. “Less than two weeks to go until Christmas.”

      “Hmm.” Adam nodded; one subject closed. “May I get you a drink? There’s a good selection in the mini bar.”

      Sunny started to shake her head no, then appeared to change her mind. “Yes, why not. I have a lot to tell you. It’ll keep my throat moist. I’ll have the white wine...” She paused to smile. “You may have the red.”

      So, she wasn’t planning to procrastinate, he thought, going to the small drinks cabinet while Sunny settled into one corner of the settee. Breaking the seal, he unlocked the cabinet, removed two small bottles, then emptied the contents into the stemmed glasses set on a tray atop the cabinet.

      After handing one of the glasses to her, he settled into the other corner of the settee.

      The way Sunny sat, knees together, legs turned into the settee, gave him a tantalizing view of her shapely calves and trim ankles, revealed by the gap in her side-slit skirt. The sight both excited and amused Adam. Here he was, unbelievably turned on by the everyday look of a woman’s legs below the knee. Incredible.

      “Your health,” he murmured. Suddenly very thirsty, he raised the glass to her before bringing it to his lips to sample the dark red liquid.

      “And yours,” she said, following his example.

      Adam was barely aware of her response; he was too distracted by the sudden realization of having chosen the wine, a cabernet this time, instead of his normally preferred can of light beer.

      Weird. And yet...

      The astounding thing was, he found himself savoring the rich, full-bodied flavor of the wine.

      Weird, indeed. But then, weird seemed par for the course ever since his first encounter with Sunny, when she had appeared to recognize him and called him Andrew.

      Sunny took a sip of her wine, then glided the tip of her tongue over her upper lip.

      A deliberate, seductive maneuver? Adam wondered. A flickering coil of heat in the foundation of his manhood gave ample evidence that if it was a deliberate ploy, it had definitely succeeded. He was experiencing the discomfort to prove it.

      “Before I begin,” she began, “I would like you to answer a question for me.”

      What game was she playing, anyway? Adam took another swallow of his wine to conceal his cynical smile.

      Nevertheless, cynicism or not, he decided to play along with her—for the moment.

      “Ask anything you like,” he invited expansively. “I have nothing to hide.”

      If Sunny noticed the emphasis he’d placed on the “I,” she chose to ignore it.

      “From your mention of friends having recommended restaurants to you and your reaction to the wagon on the street earlier, I presume that this is your first visit to the restored area of Colonial Williamsburg.” She raised her delicately arched eyebrows. “Am I correct?”

      “Yes.” He frowned. “Why?”

      “And...” She smiled. “You’re obviously alone.”

      “Yes.” His frown deepened. “Why?”

      “That’s what I’m getting at.”

      “Excuse me?” Adam made a production of exhaling. “I’m afraid I missed something. You want to back that up and run it by me again?”

      “You are here alone.”

      Impatience scraped against Adam’s nerves. “I thought I had made that clear.” His voice and the muscles in his jaw were tight. “Yes, I am alone.”

      “Why?”