One Night With You. Gwynne Forster

in return. I want to make love with you in the worst way, but I’ve learned how to deny myself, so…let’s go eat.”

      He gazed at her until she began to wonder at his mood. Suddenly, he said, “I’ll buy that.” His face transformed itself into a smile, and she wondered whether she’d be able to handle him if she ever needed to. He held her hand as they walked into the restaurant, a large but cozy room with hanging chandeliers, upholstered chairs, tables spaced far apart and the sound of soft, easy-listening music flowing around them.

      “It’s beautiful, Reid. How did you find it?”

      “I saw it when I drove to Caution Point this morning and noticed that it was used for wedding parties, so I figured it would be nice. I called and made a reservation.”

      “Yes, it’s beautiful,” she repeated, “and so are you. You clean up real good, as they say.”

      His smile told her that he appreciated her compliment, but he added, “Thank you, Kendra. I’m beginning to feel like my old self, but when I look at you, knowing who and what you are, I’m humbled. You are so beautiful. I love you in that dress.”

      She nearly lost her breath, although she knew there had to be more to that sentence. The maître d’ seated them in a corner near a fireplace, one of several in the room. The place was bound to be expensive, but she didn’t intend to insult him by suggesting that they split the bill. She ordered white wine, and he asked for a wine and club soda spritzer. “I’m driving,” he told the sommelier when the man looked at him disparagingly.

      A waiter took their order, and she noted the frown on Reid’s face when the man allowed his gaze to linger on her cleavage.

      Reid raised his glass. “Here’s to the loveliest of women.”

      “And here’s to the nicest, sweetest man I know.”

      “Okay,” he said. “I won’t push you. You don’t have to say anything about my…er…charm and—”

      “Then, I won’t. Did you rent a car today?”

      “My boss let me use a company car.” He leaned forward. “Kendra, I have so much to tell you. The day got better by the hour.” He told her about his visit with Marcus, of Marcus’s request that he design a building for him, about his boss’s agreement allowing him to do it.

      “Kendra, Jack invited me to lunch. He loved the sketch I did for the airport terminal in Caution Point, and another one that he thinks he can use for a deal he’s trying to make. But, Kendra, even before he saw my ideas for that airport terminal, he and Connerly, the junior partner, had decided to raise me from assistant to full architect with double the pay. Do you—”

      She interrupted him. “I think I’m going to cry. I—”

      “Cry? Why, for heaven’s sake?”

      “I’m so happy for you. I…I’m…excuse me.” She stumbled from the table and rushed to the women’s room, where the tears flowed. Now maybe there was a chance for them. He would be his own man, the company recognized his value and he didn’t have to look up to anyone. She patted cold water on her face, dried it with a paper towel, buffed her skin and headed back to the table.

      The maître d’ intercepted her. “Is Madame all right?”

      “Yes, indeed,” she said, and looked up and saw that Reid stood by the table waiting for her. If she had been at home, she suspected that she would have run to him, but she remembered who and where she was, controlled the urge and let her smile communicate to him her feelings.

      He walked to meet her. “What happened? Are you okay?”

      “I’m fine, Reid. Forgive me for letting it get out of control.”

      He assisted her in sitting down and walked around to his own chair. “I’m glad you’re fine, but I need to know what happened.”

      She took a deep breath. “Not since I met you have I seen you so…so full of…of hope, so happy, just bursting with joie de vivre. Seeing you that way, almost watching years fall away from you. I couldn’t help it. I’m so happy for you. It’s the first time I’ve ever cried because I was happy.”

      “You were crying for me?” He reached across the table and grasped her hand. She didn’t answer him. Something was happening between them, and neither of them would be able to alter its course. He repeated the question.

      “Yes. Silly, aren’t I?”

      His gaze—fiery, turbulent—bored into her, refusing to release her, and she couldn’t glance away. “I guarantee you that if I had you alone and in a private place right now, I would make love with you, and I wouldn’t stop until you were mine.”

      “Could I…may I have some more wine, please?”

      “Of course you may. I see you haven’t disagreed with me. We’re going to be lovers, Kendra. Maybe not soon, but you can bet on it.”

      “I’ve never had a man talk like this to me, so I don’t know what to say to you right now.”

      “You haven’t told me that I’m out of line. Am I?”

      “I don’t…no. You aren’t out of line, but it’s best you don’t push me. I can get stubborn, even against myself.”

      A smile lit up his face, and it seemed as if a spotlight shone on him. He squeezed her fingers. “I won’t push you. I’m a patient man, or at least I have been in the past. I hope I’ll be able to boast of my patience six months from now. Something tells me I’ve never been tested.”

      She leaned back in her chair and looked at him. “When we met, I had trouble getting you to utter a sentence that had more than six words. Now you’re very expressive. You talk to me. I like the change. Now if I can just get you to tell me goodbye when you leave me.”

      “That day probably won’t come, Kendra. My mother was the last person to whom I used those two words. She’s been gone since I was sixteen.”

      She turned over her hand so that her palm caressed his. “I’m so sorry, Reid. Who raised you after that? I mean, who saw you through school?”

      “My dad. He’s gone now. It happened while I was fighting that class action suit.”

      She’d like to know what it was about the man that got to her so thoroughly. I’m not in love with him, so what is it?

      “Would Madame care for dessert?” the waiter asked. “Our dessert chef is world famous, sir,” he said to Reid, who ordered a floating island.

      “I’ll have raspberry and peach sorbet,” she said, pleased with herself for having resisted the sour lime pie.

      “If we were in Baltimore,” Reid said as they left the restaurant, “I would take you dancing. I don’t know any nice place around here, and that’s a pity. You look so lovely that I don’t want to take you home yet.”

      “There’ll be other nights, Reid. At least, I hope so.”

      “And there will be, if I have my way. Say, do you have a regional map in the glove compartment?” She opened it and removed an AAA map. He took her hand, walked over to the light and examined the map.

      “We can be in Elizabeth City in twenty minutes to half an hour at only moderate speed. What do you say?”

      She loved to dance; imagined dancing with him. “I’m for it.”

      Half a mile down the highway, he filled up the gas tank, got back into the car and drove off singing, “God Didn’t Make Little Green Apples.”

      “Can you cook?” she asked him, though she didn’t know why the thought had occurred.

      “I’m a pretty good cook. I like to eat, so I taught myself to cook. Cooking is a special kind of chemistry,” he said, warming up to the subject. “It’s a matter of putting together the right flavors