Silent Desires. Julie Kenner

Because if Opie was making Bryce miss out on dinner with the woman altogether, then the young attorney was really going to see the full force of Bryce’s wrath.

      THE HOSTESS HAD SEATED HER even though Bryce wasn’t there yet, but now Joan was wishing she’d waited in the bar. She felt horribly conspicuous sitting all alone at the small, intimate table. Just feeling that way bothered her. She’d been everywhere—from truck stops to black-tie affairs—and this was the first time she’d felt truly out of place.

      Hoping to ignore the feeling, she glanced into her tote at the books she’d chosen. She’d brought several so that he’d have a choice. Most were standard fare—early editions of works by Lawrence and Miller and others. The basic building blocks of a serious erotica collection. The third, though…well, the third was Pleasures. Her favorite book.

      If she’d been feeling contemplative, she would have wondered about her motivations in bringing a book that both fascinated and turned her on. Fortunately, she wasn’t feeling contemplative.

      She took another sip of her wine, then nibbled on a bread stick to counteract the alcohol that was fast going to her head. She was on her second glass. A mistake, probably, but she hated just to sit there. And so when the waiter had offered the wine, she’d simply accepted.

      For the umpteenth time, she glanced at her watch. Nine-twenty. Damn.

      She pulled out her cell phone and checked the display screen, wondering if perhaps she’d missed a call. She hadn’t, of course, and then she remembered that she hadn’t given him her number. She had his, though. She hesitated to use it, the act of actually calling to ask where he was too wounding to her pride.

      But she supposed she’d rather suffer a slight bruising to her ego than sit there all night sipping wine and getting wasted. She punched in the number, and the phone rang and rang, finally switching to voice mail.

      She clicked off, not bothering to leave a message. What would she say? Where are you? That was too pathetic. Have you stood me up? That was too angry. Nothing quite fit, and so she said nothing, intending to wait five minutes and simply try again.