He stared down at her, his eyes burning into hers. “See you tomorrow?
She lifted her eyebrows. “We’ll see.”
“Have dinner with me again.” He’d said that on an impulse, but he meant it.
“I’ll do better than that,” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll fix dinner for you.”
That took him by surprise. Things could not have worked out better. “I’ll be there at six.”
She went on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek then she whispered in his ear, “I look forward to it.”
******
Twenty-four days to the deadline and things were heading in the right direction. And the surprise was, she hadn’t even been the one to send them down that road.
Just like she’d planned, he’d kissed her. Because he wanted to. She hadn’t had a thing to do with it. Well, almost nothing.
She had to admit that she might have had just a tiny bit of influence on him. She’d worn that perfume she knew he’d fallen in love with that first night they’d had dinner together. She’d seen his reaction when he breathed in the fragrance. And then she’d worn her killer blouse, the one that revealed a whole lot of shoulder and just a hint of cle**age. And, to top it all off, she’d given him the ‘eye’ just like Tessa had taught her, keeping her eyes half closed and setting her lips in an inviting pout.
And then he’d kissed her, so her preening must have worked. Or he must have really, really liked her. She liked reason number two better.
The fact was, she wanted him to like her. For real. Because, for her, all of this was growing a lot more serious than just like. She was beginning to fall in love.
It was strange. Could a woman fall in love in the space of six days? According to the Psychology books she’d read it was men who would usually say they’d fallen in love at first sight. Women spent more time in getting to know the man before admitting to such feelings.
But, from that first meeting, she’d felt that connection. It was freaky but the mere sight of him had set her body blazing. Had he felt the same way? Was that the real reason he'd kissed her last night?
She drew in a deep breath, the thoughts bumping around in her head, and stared out her bedroom window at the sun rising over the plains. With all she had to do, today was going to be hectic. And she would have to fix dinner for Stone. Well, actually, she planned to ask Cook to do it. Cooking was not exactly one of her best skills. Fishing? Yes. Maybe even catching some wild game, like birds or rabbits. But cooking? Please.
She pulled the mosquito netting aside and slid out of bed. She might as well get started early. She was looking forward to a productive day and, if all went well, a very exciting evening.
Anita came to get Indie just after eight o'clock so she got a chance to have breakfast with the boys. Then after they'd filed away to their classes she toured each room and got to know them individually. The little ones were really excited to have her, and climbed onto her lap and pulled her hair which was growing a little longer. They wouldn't let her leave until she'd read them a story and then another until finally, hugging them and laughing at their antics, she was able to slip out.
She toured the other classes and was able to note their needs. Later she would write a requisition list. After that it was time to examine the housing facilities and determine what needed to be done. By the time she'd done her tours it was almost three in the afternoon, she'd missed lunch, and she hadn't even had time to speak to Cook yet.
Of course, when she did speak to him he was none too pleased at the short notice and he held nothing back in telling her so. Still, after much cajoling and wheedling, she got him to agree to prepare a simple meal of chicken stew with mashed potatoes and sweet corn.
That settled, she hurried back to her cottage-cum-office where she did paperwork until about five o'clock. At that point she had to break to get herself ready for her dinner date. She was pleasantly surprised when the meal arrived at five-twenty, long before she'd even had a chance to dress and fix her hair. Not that there was much to fix, it was so short. But still, she wanted to look her best.
This evening she softened her look, forgoing the slacks for a flowing, ankle-length dress with a slit that ran up her left calf and halfway up her thigh. She knew she had nice legs. She'd received her fair share of compliments. And tonight she planned to give Stone a peek so he could see what he was missing.
And that idea was all her own. No Tessa, no Cosmopolitan Magazine, all Indie.
She set the table and, on an impulse, she set a short, fat scented candle in the middle and lit it. She'd found the candle in one of the kitchen cupboards and why should she let it go to waste? More importantly, she was trying to draw this man in so she might as well go all the way.
As the sun began to slide toward the horizon Indie went to the door and looked out. And there, striding toward her house, tall and dark with the setting sun to his back, was Stone.
At the sight of him her heart gave a flutter. Sure, she was expecting him and, of course, this wasn't their first dinner date. But still, she couldn't stop her heart from jerking in anticipation. Involuntarily she pulled at her dress, letting it fall softly around her legs, then she reached up a hand and smoothed her hair back and away from her face. The fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach told her she was nervous as hell. Come on, Indie, you've done this before. Just chill out.
Stone was at her door now, and as he stepped forward she tilted her chin up, her face deliberately cool and serene, and accepted his peck on the cheek. He would never guess that her placid exterior was just a sham. Inside she was as jumpy as quicksilver.
“Now it’s my turn to welcome you,” she said with a soft smile as he stepped inside.
He didn’t reply but the intensity of his gaze was all the response she needed. He was taking her in, all of her, from the top of her head down to her sandaled feet peeping out from under the hem of her dress. And his eyes lingered in all the right places – the sweep of her collarbone, the slope of her neckline and all the way up that all-important slit in the side of her dress.