Standing Outside The Fire. Sara Orwig

she offered, and the doors closed behind her.

      “Yes, you will,” Boone replied quietly. He rode to his floor, hurried to his room to deposit his flight bag, wash up and comb his wavy brown hair.

      Downstairs in the restaurant, he got a table beside a window that overlooked the deserted swimming pool. In the red-carpeted restaurant the lights were low and, because of the late hour, the room was almost deserted. While he sat and waited, he could hear live music from the lounge.

      Less than five minutes later, she walked through the door, and his pulse skipped a beat. When he stood and waved to her, she hesitated, but then she smiled and crossed the room toward him, moving past the tables draped with white linen cloths.

      He watched the easy sway of her hips, and his temperature rose another notch.

      “You don’t give up easily, either, do you?” she demanded.

      “No, but I’m not going to coerce you into eating with me. You’ll have to admit, it’ll be far more entertaining than if we eat alone.”

      “And you don’t lack in confidence,” she added, sounding amused.

      “That was fact not confidence. I know I’ll have a better time eating with you instead of alone.” He pulled out a chair.

      “I don’t usually let guys pick me up,” she told him, “and I don’t usually have dinner with strangers. For all I know, you’re married.”

      “I’m not picking you up—this isn’t a date,” he said as she sat down. “And I’ve never been married, not married now, not going to be.”

      “A free spirit?”

      “Exactly.” He walked around to his chair to sit and face her. “Besides, we’re not strangers now. We’ve known each other almost a whole half hour.” He held out his hand. “I’m B—”

      She shook her head. “No names. Let’s keep this impersonal.”

      “You don’t want to know my name?”

      “No, because we won’t see each other again after this night. When dinner is over we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll feel much better about it.”

      He cocked his head. “Want to make a bet? I’ll bet you that before we part, you’ll tell me your name. In the meantime, I’ll just call you Red.”

      Smiling, she nodded while her green eyes twinkled. “All right, I’ll take that bet. Winner gets what?”

      “What would you like if you win?” he challenged, knowing what he would like to claim as his prize, but also knowing he couldn’t tell her that now. Another loud clap of thunder boomed and crackled through the hotel. “What would you like if you win? Name something,” he urged her.

      She gazed past him and pursed her lips in thought. Boone had to fight the temptation to lean across the table and touch his lips to hers. Finally her gaze returned to him. “I’m a chocoholic. If I win, you get me a chocolate dessert, or if they don’t have one, a candy bar. I know the gift shop will have them.”

      “Fine with me,” he replied.

      “Now, if you win, what do you want? You better keep the prize simple and impersonal,” she warned in a no-nonsense tone.

      “That you tell me four facts about yourself—in addition to the ones I figure out on my own.”

      He received another smile. “If you’re trying to figure me out, I can save you the trouble. I’m an ordinary person who leads an ordinary life.”

      “I don’t think so. Four new facts, right?”

      “That’s an easy one. All right. I’ll take that bet and enjoy my chocolate.”

      “Tonight we can have a double celebration.”

      “This ought to be a good one—what else will we celebrate?” Outside, lightning flashed, and then was gone.

      “My having dinner with one of the prettiest women in Texas, and that’s saying a lot. Since Texas women are usually gorgeous.”

      She laughed and shook her head. “That’s a little thick!”

      “There! Your smile is absolute proof. You have a dimple, even, white teeth, a smile that would set any man’s pulse racing, plus those big green eyes…” He paused when a waiter arrived to pour glasses of water for each of them.

      Boone ordered white wine, yet all the time he was ordering, he was watching the woman and thinking about her. He had meant every word he’d said to her. Besides being capable and keeping a cool head in a scary situation, she was stunning and sexy—a combination to heat his blood to boiling. And he had the feeling that she was merely tolerating him. He could get some response from her, but it was slight and guarded, a rarity in his dealings with women.

      As soon as the waiter left, Boone leaned forward. “Where was I? Big, green eyes, luscious red lips, fiery red hair,” he said, catching a lock of her hair in his fingers. It was silky soft.

      “Who were you telling all this to last night?” she asked, tugging her hair away from him. Though she was being flippant, there was no mistaking a chemistry sparking between them.

      “I could deny telling anyone, but I don’t think you’d believe me. The way you decked that guy in the parking lot says a lot about your personality.”

      “Am I supposed to ask you what you think my personality is like?” she asked with amusement in her eyes.

      “I think you’re practical. No frills. Intelligent and cool and confident. You’re laughing at my compliments, which means you are self-assured and don’t need to hear compliments. You can laugh at yourself and don’t believe you are one of the most gorgeous women in Texas, though you should.”

      “Hardly! That’s a real stretch.” She laughed, and he wondered how many men had succumbed to that irresistible smile. “I’ve never won a beauty contest in my life.”

      “How many have you entered?” he countered.

      “None,” she admitted.

      “And I’m right in my assessment otherwise—will you agree with that?”

      Her lips firmed as she seemed to give his question thought before she nodded. “I’d say that I am practical and no frills. Intelligent—I hope reasonably so, but maybe I’m not showing a whole lot of sense eating dinner with a stranger. To my credit, when we finish dinner, I will go to my room and you will go to yours. And you won’t accompany me to mine. You won’t know which room it is. You won’t even know who I am. Let’s keep the evening impersonal. I’ll feel safer that way. I carry a cell phone and can call for help at any time. As for cool and confident—most of the time. Not always. It’s a fairly accurate assessment.”

      “So is the part about you being gorgeous.” He leaned back as the waiter brought a bottle of wine, opened it and let Boone approve before pouring. The pale liquid half filled the glasses and then the white-coated waiter set the bottle in a bucket of ice and placed ornate red menus in front of each of them before he left.

      As soon as they were alone, Boone lifted his glass. “Here’s to you for handling a bad situation with great aplomb.” He touched his glass to hers with a faint clink, and then gazing into her eyes, took a sip of his wine. The pale, dry wine went down smoothly while excitement hummed in him like an idling engine.

      As she sipped and lowered her glass, thunder boomed.

      “We may have just beaten the rain here,” he observed.

      “They’ve had two inches today already,” she replied, looking outside and sounding as if she had forgotten him.

      “How do you know that?” He was curious about her, wanting to know everything possible and wanting a date.

      “The desk clerk told me.”

      While