Mrs. Burgess dried the last dish and put it
away. “It’s getting late. Why don’t the two of you head over to the club
downtown? Or, I heard the USO is having a farewell party for some of the men
ready to be deployed. Several bands are supposed to be there tonight.”
When Allison shook her head, Mrs. Burgess
persisted. “You both deserve a night out. Since Becca’s already here, she can
spend the night in one of the girls’ old rooms upstairs until you get home.”
Taken aback, Allison looked around the huge
home. It was elegant. Certainly out of her league. She didn’t belong here.
Didn’t belong with Ryan. Why had he insisted she come here today? She was a
nobody, while his family was…wealthy.
“That’s a great idea,” she heard him say
before she could speak. “We won’t stay out late. Just long enough to listen to
some music and relax a bit.”
“No, I couldn’t possibly do that. I need to
get Becca home now. We’ve inconvenienced you all too much as it is.”
“You’ve been no inconvenience, dear. We’ve
loved having the two of you visit. I hope you’ll come back often.”
Returning with her coat and Ryan’s overcoat,
Mr. Burgess handed them both to Ryan. “Make sure you bundle up now. It’s mighty
cold out there. Mother, I don’t see a neck scarf for the young lady. Do you
have one she can borrow?”
While Ryan helped with her coat, his mother
quickly returned with a long cashmere neck scarf. Ryan took it and wrapped it
gently around Allison’s neck. “There, that’s better.”
Allison just stood there, her mouth open.
She’d never felt anything so luxurious. “But I can’t—”
“Certainly you can, dear. I’m not going out
this evening. I’m happy to let you borrow it.” She glanced over at her husband
and received the briefest of nods. “In fact, I rarely ever wear that one. It
looks lovely on you, so why don’t you keep it?”
“I can’t—”
As Ryan ushered her out the door into the
blast of cold air, he laughed. “There sure are a lot of things you seem to think
you can’t do. Time to start thinking of what you can.”
Out at the curb, he stopped beside the
family’s two year old Packard. “I wish I could drive us there.” He patted his
leg with his gloved hand. “But with this leg I can’t work the clutch. It’s too
cold to walk. How about we take the trolley?”
At her agreement, they headed to the nearest
trolley tracks. Placing his cane over his arm, he helped Allison up and then
pulled himself onto the first step. As they sat and rode toward the center of
town, he eased his arm along the back of the seat. “Why don’t you move closer?
It’s cold in here and I don’t want you to catch a chill.”
Allison glared at him. “Is your family
always so bossy?”
Ryan laughed, a deep guttural sound. He
hadn’t done that in ages. Not since his plane had crashed into the barrier and
the world as he’d known it had changed. It felt good.
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact they are.
Most of the time. It’s one of the things I love about them. They know what they
want and go after it.”
He pulled her closer. “When I was overseas,
I watched men open parcels from home. Some got bars of soap, powder, maybe a
sweater or a muffler. Simple things, but it meant the world to them. Meant home.
I, on the other hand, came home to a fancy house while many of those men died.
But I didn’t appreciate it. I thought my life was over. Merely because my leg
hurts and I limp. I thought no one would ever want me. Thought I’d never want
anything—anyone—ever again.”
When the trolley stopped near the club, he
exited, then helped Allison down the steps. Strains of Duke Ellington filtered
out into the cold night air.
“Until I met you.”
He turned her toward him. “But instead of
making me feel good, I felt worse. Oh sure, there was plenty in this world to
live for—but I’d never have it.”
“That’s silly, Ryan. You have everything to
live for. What could you have possibly wanted that you thought you couldn’t—”
He placed a finger over her lips. “You.”
At her gasp, he continued. “I wanted you,
Alli. Wanted to hold you in my arms. Wanted to feel your sweet lips against
mine. Wanted to make love to you all night. But I knew it would never happen.
You’d never want me. I’m no longer whole. I’m damaged goods.”
“But Ryan—”
“Then I changed my mind. Remembered I’m a
Burgess. We go after what we want. Claim it. Take it.” He eased his hand around
the back of her neck. “I’m going after you, Alli Morgan. Prepare yourself for
that. I’m claiming you as my own. And some day I’m going to take you. For now
I’ll woo you. Win your heart. And I’m going to start by kissing you.”
He moved his mouth within an inch of hers, a
smile tilting up his lips. “What’s this? No argument? You’re not going to tell
me you can’t?”
Her eyes met his. Never wavered. “No.”
His lips met hers. Gently. Sweetly. His
tongue brushed her closed lips, urging them to open. When they did, he thrust
his tongue inside, claiming what he’d wanted for the past month. What he planned
to have for the rest of his life.
Allison moaned. His hand brushed over her
hair, eased a tendril behind her ear. He hugged her close. Moved his hand up
and down the column of her back. Lust shot straight to his groin. He’d worried
his injury might have messed up more than his leg. Allison’s body pressed to his
proved that wasn’t so. He could make love to her—and some day he would. Of that
he no longer had any doubt. He moved his hand inside her coat and brushed it
over her plain, cotton blouse. The tip of her breast hardened instantly under
his fingertips. Just as he’d hardened holding her.
He groaned. If he didn’t stop now, he might
not be able to. He wouldn’t behave like a rutting stag. Gathering what little
control he had left, he pulled back. Looked at Allison’s very kissable mouth and
had to close his eyes and count to ten. Mercy, but he wanted her.
Helping straighten her coat, Ryan held his
arm out for her and headed for the club. They waited their turn to enter. Bing
Crosby’s Moonlight Becomes You lilted through the door each time it
opened. The song was right. She was beautiful, and the moonlight glinting off
her silky, auburn hair had him wanting to run his hands through it. Wanting to
run his hands over every inch of her body.
