A Glimpse of Fire. Debbi Rawlins

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      His fascinated interest in the sushi-making process came to an abrupt halt and he took a step back. The chef presented a plate of intimidating hamachi-and-eel sushi he’d been working on to a couple at the bar. Dallas smiled, and taking pity on Eric, she moved toward him.

      “Hi.”

      He turned to her with relief in his eyes. “You showed up.”

      “Of course. I suggested the place, remember?”

      He half smiled, and she realized he wasn’t talking about the sushi.

      The petite Japanese hostess returned from seating another couple and grabbed two menus off the counter. “How many?” she asked without a trace of an accent.

      “Two,” Dallas said, “and we’d prefer a table in the back if you have one.”

      “Let’s see…”

      While the woman searched the crowded restaurant, Eric whispered, “We can still make a break. There’s a steak house right around the corner.”

      Dallas laughed. “Behave yourself and I won’t make you eat anything raw.”

      “Follow me, please.” The woman led them toward the back, her waist-long black hair swaying and shimmering like expensive silk as she wove in between tables. “Is this all right?” she asked, waving a perfectly manicured hand with long red fingernails at a table for two in the far corner.

      “Perfect.” Eric flashed her a grin that put a sparkle in her dark eyes.

      “Enjoy your meal.” She left the menus on the table and moved back toward the front as if she were gliding on air.

      Dallas sighed as she took her seat. She really didn’t mind being so tall, liked it usually, but sometimes she envied the seemingly effortless femininity of petite women.

      Eric sat, too, his back toward the other diners. He didn’t pick up his menu, only stared at her. Not in a rude way but enough to make her uneasy.

      She cleared her throat. “Do you trust me to order for you?”

      “Is this where the ‘I’ll be gentle’ part comes in?”

      “I thought you didn’t like gentle.”

      “Depends.”

      “On what?”

      His lips curved as he thoughtfully studied her for a moment. “So, that’s how you wanna play.”

      She smiled back. “I’m not playing.”

      Challenge flickered in his eyes, but before he could deliver a comeback, the waitress appeared for their drink orders. He asked for a scotch, and Dallas ordered white wine. But that would be it for her. Work started at seven tomorrow.

      “You come here often?” he asked, glancing around at the other diners, mostly tourists, mostly couples but a few families.

      “This is only the third time, but the food is good and reasonable considering they advertise in one of those tourist magazines.” She stopped herself from volunteering that it was also close to her apartment.

      “Yeah, I was surprised you chose a tourists’ hangout. I figured you must live nearby.”

      She smiled and picked up the menu even though she knew exactly what she’d order. “You’d better have a look at the menu.”

      “I already know what I want.”

      The huskiness in his tone made her look up. She met his eyes and there was little doubt as to what he meant. She held his gaze but only for a moment before she had to look away. He didn’t scare her. She frightened herself. Never before had the reckless urge to shun common sense been so strong. To jump in headfirst and consider the consequences later.

      What the hell was it about him that made her want to be foolish? She pretended to study the menu, hoping her ridiculous desire to skip dinner and go straight to a hotel room would pass.

      “What are you going to have?” she asked, keeping her eyes lowered to the menu.

      “The teriyaki rib eye steak.”

      “You big chicken,” she said, shaking her head at him.

      “Hey, it’s not like I’d ask them to leave off the teriyaki sauce.”

      They both laughed.

      She laid down the menu. “How adventurous of you.”

      “You have no idea.”

      “Where are you from?”

      “The Pittsburgh area. And you?”

      She’d expected the return question and saw no harm in answering. “Right here. I was born at New York General, although I grew up mostly in Tarrytown. It’s about forty minutes away.”

      “I know the area. Nice.”

      She nodded. “So green and pretty. I miss it but I like living in the city.”

      “Which part is that?”

      She smiled. “How long have you lived here?”

      “In Manhattan, about five years.” His gaze roamed her face, lingered on her mouth. “I think our drinks are coming. Ready to order dinner?”

      “Are you in a hurry?”

      He gave her that sexy look again. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

      THEY LEFT THE RESTAURANT AN hour later. The sun had set, but there was still another half hour of light left. No way would Eric let this evening end. He still didn’t know her last name or anything else about her. Other than she was from Tarrytown but now lived in the city.

      Of course, knowing she’d grown up in Tarrytown provided more insight. He could safely bet his Rolex that her family had some money. The upper-middle-class community was a far cry from the steel-mill neighborhood where he’d grown up. Hell, even the Rockefellers had an estate there.

      Although he didn’t need particulars to know she came from a genteel background. Breeding showed in every step she took. The softness in her voice. The graceful way she moved. Modeling, of course, gave her polish, but she had her own natural panache that couldn’t be learned or faked.

      “How about a walk?” he asked before she could flag a cab and disappear.

      “Sure. It’s nice out. Not as sticky as last week.”

      “I say we head for Central Park.”

      Her eyebrows rose. “It’ll start getting dark by the time we get there.”

      “Afraid of the big bad wolf?”

      “Should СКАЧАТЬ