Lest Old Marines Be Forgot by Heather Long

Author:Heather Long [Long, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adult, Romance
ISBN: 9781613336328
Amazon: B00H16TW6Y
Barnesnoble: B00H16TW6Y
Goodreads: 19084144
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Published: 2013-11-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

The rest of the meal passed in similar fashion. Every statement he made, she challenged with her own experiences—and while he’d taken a chance with that kiss, it paid off in spades. Her lost vulnerability vanished. The heat in her cheeks reflected in the sparks in her deep brown eyes. He watched her, in between bites and whenever she spoke. Her gaze snagged on his time and again.

Direct contact didn’t bother her, nor did his attention. If anything, she grew more daring as they finished their meal and traded out the wine glasses for coffee. Any time he came into contact with her, she leaned into it—and she’d long since angled her leg against his beneath the table.

She loved television, and he had no idea what half the shows were that she mentioned. It surprised her that he wasn’t as big a sports fan as most, though he didn’t mind watching the big games on the holidays. Neither had any interest in hunting, but he loved fishing—and she’d never been. She loved the idea of traveling to exotic ports, and he nixed about of five them right off the top of her list as being unsafe for travel. The other five—well he wouldn’t mind taking her to see them.

They’d gone through an entire carafe of coffee when the waitress stepped in to murmur that they would be turning the lights down soon. At Brenda’s slow blink, Tom checked his watch. It was five minutes to midnight. Surprise jerked him upright, and he motioned to the window. “Do you want to watch the fireworks from here? Or would you like to go upstairs?”

All evening they’d skirted the night portion of their 1Night Stand-planned assignation and he hadn’t minded in the slightest. It had been a long time since he’d had that much fun. Still, she’d had trouble with New Year’s Eve before—a harsh reminder of her loss.

The quiet animation drained away from her expression. “It’s almost midnight, isn’t it?”

He nodded once and when she made a move as though to stand, he rose and caught her chair for her, easing it out of the way.

“I think I’d like to go upstairs.” She didn’t quite look at him, but he felt the weight of her attention. Following her line of sight, he caught her staring at their reflection in the window. Side by side, he seemed a dour companion to her elegance.

He’d settled the bill before dinner had even been served. She collected her purse and they slipped out of the quiet alcove. The ride up to the room was short and quick, and the suite had been prepared in anticipation of their arrival, right down to a bottle of champagne on ice and a tray of chocolates. Most women seemed to like those types of things.

Sliding the keycard into his pocket, Tom followed Brenda inside. She kicked off her shoes and set her purse on a table and walked across the room to the French doors leading to a private balcony.

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